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Continued from page 124…
Tuesday, July 21st, 1987, 7:36 P.M.
Belinda hung up the phone with Kathy and was in a decidedly good mood. Even though she had turned down Kathy’s offer to party like a madman, she still felt like it was a productive conversation. She knew that Kathy was hurt by her declination to indulge, especially since it had been a while since they hung out together, but Belinda also knew that Kathy was a reasonable and sensible person, and that they were all entering a new phase in their collective lives. The T.V. show was over and Belinda had a brand new snuggle-bunny in her living room. It was as simple as that.
In fact, Belinda was so satisfied, she decided to rummage through her freezer in search of one of her other favorite indulges.
At this point, Jane entered the kitchen from the living room.
“Hey, what’s goin’ on? Who was that on the phone?” she asked.
“Oh… that was Kathy,” answered Belinda with an inscrutable look on her face. She couldn’t decide which treat to choose from.
“What did she want?” asked Jane.
“She wanted to know if I wanted to go out this weekend,” said Belinda, who now had her hands on her hips and was noticeably frustrated.
“What’s wrong?” asked Jane, cracking a smile because she knew about Belinda’s love affair with frozen goodies.
“I can’t decide what I want!” lamented Belinda. “Do I want a Dreamsicle or a Push-Up?”
“Do you have any Italian Ices?”
“No, I’m all out of those… I got Bomb-Pops,” informed Belinda.
“Ehh… I don’t like the red part… Gina likes those… Hey, Gina?!!!” shouted Jane.
Off in the distance, they both could hear Gina shout back—
“What?!!!”
“Do you want a Bomb-Pop?!!!”
“Hell, yes!!!” replied Gina.
Belinda pulled a Bomb-Pop out of the freezer and handed it to Jane. Then she retrieved a Dreamsicle for herself.
“What do you want?” asked Belinda.
“Nothing. I’m good for now,” answered Jane. “I already had pizza today and we just devoured a whole plate of cookies. I don’t need any more calories… In fact.. put this back,” Jane instructed, handing Belinda the popsicle. “I want to talk to you about something.”
“What about?” asked Belinda, unwrapping her confection.
“I want to talk to you about making another album,” said Jane, hesitantly.
Belinda had just bitten a small portion off the top of her Dreamsicle, and was now staring at Jane with it dangling in her mouth.
“Oh, no… No, no, no, no, no, no, no… I’m not making another album… Not now… No way, uh-uh… I got way too much shit on my mind,” informed Belinda.
“It doesn’t have to be now,” Jane replied. “Some time in the near future… And we’ll work around your schedule.”
“How near is this future?” asked Belinda, with a suspicious look on her face.
“Some time within the next year… The time is not important… Something else is more important,” hinted Jane.
Belinda was now looking at Jane with deep consternation whilst maneuvering her sugary morsel around in her mouth.
“What have you got on your mind?” she asked.
“I want to do this for Gina,” answered Jane.
“What?”
“Look… Gina has written a shitload of songs over the years… And I think we owe it to her to record some of them,” said Jane.
Belinda was now placed in a serious quandary. She knew that Jane had just brought up a point that had been discussed numerous times amongst the group, and was now stuck between a rock and a hard place. The studio had always been very strict about the public image of the band, and Gina got kicked in the proverbial balls continuously about not getting some of her songs put on the air. Belinda was well aware of this and was now staring at Jane with a semi-defeated look on her face. She sighed heavily and asked—
“What kind of songs are they?”
“They’re good… They’re heavier, of course, she likes hard rock, but they’re good… I’ve heard them,” answered Jane.
“Ahhhh, I don’t know, Jane,” groaned Belinda. “I can’t do hard rock… I don’t have the voice for it… And I don’t wanna do any high-pitched stuff like screaming… I don’t wanna ruin my voice.”
“You’re not gonna ruin your voice,” said Jane, amused at Belinda’s paranoia. “We’re not gonna do anything out of your range… You know, that growling that you do is probably worse for your voice than any type of screaming… You’re a female, for Pete’s sake… Besides, aren’t you forgetting that we used to do punk rock… You didn’t seem to have a problem with ruining your voice back then.”
“I’m forgetting on purpose,” explained Belinda. “I don’t wanna be reminded of how embarrassing we were.”
“Oh, come on… That’s a badge of honor what we did,” said Jane.
Belinda paused and looked into Jane’s face. Jane returned the look with soulful, puppy-dog eyes.
“Come on, buddy… For Gina…”
Belinda was thoroughly whooped.
“Alright… I’ll do it for Gina,” she said.