52
Wednesday, May 14th, 1986, 10:03 A.M.
The filming floor of Studio 6A was teeming with activity as Jane navigated her way through the sea of technicians and performers, greeting the various people who could be distracted just long enough to look in her direction and say hello.
Her conversation with Alexis was reassuring, but her upcoming appointment with the doctor was now a matter of mental discipline. Would she be able to put her medical situation out of her mind long enough to enjoy her vacation? That was the all-important question. Having fun in Hawaii with Terry was the easy part. Forgetting a lump behind her ear was another story.
Jane walked through the exit doors, turned the corner and entered the main hallway that lead to the seemingly endless array of offices, dressing rooms, and supply rooms. She was headed for the elevators that would take her to the second floor. She wanted to pop into Charlotte’s office and check in with her since they didn’t get a chance to chat on the phone the previous evening. Even though Charlotte had resigned from her position as a producer, the studio let her keep her office for the time being because she agreed to take care of a few logistical duties and because nobody else had made a play for it yet.
The first person that Jane ran into as she strolled down the hallway was Denise, one of the production assistants, who asked her a question that took Jane a tad bit by surprise.
“Hi, Jane! How are you feeling?” she inquired.
“Excuse me?” Jane asked back, wondering how Denise could be so intuitive. “Why do you ask?” Jane instantly recognized that her attitude was probably bordering on being rude.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” answered Denise. “I didn’t mean to pry.. It’s just that you told me yesterday that you were having some headaches that’s all.”
Denise’s polite concern proceeded to make Jane legitimately feel like a horse’s ass. She immediately found herself scrambling to cover up her clumsy forgetfulness.
“Oh.. Okay,” Jane stammered, trying to think of something to say. “I’m sorry.. I’m just being a bitch.. I’m not thinking clearly. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, Jane. No worries,” said Denise, trying to make Jane feel comfortable again. “I guess it’s sort of a strange question,” she added.
“No, no, that’s my fault,” continued Jane. “Thanks for asking.”
“No problem… So how are they?” asked Denise. She was now hoping this would be the last part of the conversation.
“What?” Jane stumbled back, temporarily forgetting again what Denise was even talking about.
“The headaches,” answered Denise. She could plainly see that Jane was in another world.
“Ohh!! The headaches!” laughed Jane, continuing to feel like a dork. “No, they’re fine, really… I’m sorry, I’m just.. really.. not myself right now.. Sorry.”
At this point, as much as she liked and admired the pint-sized rock star, Denise could not wait to turn around and get the hell out of there.
“Glad to here it,” said Denise, with a fake smile.
Feeling completely embarrassed, Jane had already turned around and was fleeing the scene.
“Thank you!” she called back to Denise, as neither one of them bothered to say goodbye.
Jane continued down the hallway, rolling her eyes and mumbling to herself at the just concluded conversation. Several human contacts later, she came across Roxanne, her makeup girl, who, coincidentally, had a bit too much makeup on herself. Jane was pretty sure she knew what question would be coming out of Roxanne’s mouth. They both acknowledged each other, but neither one of them came to a complete stop.
“Hey, Jane, you comin’ in soon?” asked Roxanne, referring to getting Jane’s ass in the chair.
“Yeah, I’ll be in in a few minutes,” Jane returned.
“Love you!” yelled Roxanne.
“Love you, too!” Jane called back.
As she turned the corner to the right, Jane came across Belinda’s dressing room on the left. Even though she was somewhat in a hurry, Jane couldn’t help but knock on the door, which had Belinda’s name and the obligatory star emblazoned on it.
“Come in,” Belinda called out.
Jane opened the door and poked her head in.
“Hey, pal, whatcha’ doin’?” asked Jane.
“Nothing.. Just waiting to go back on,” revealed Belinda, who was reclined on her couch. Her head was resting on a pillow and a book was sitting upright on her stomach. She was reading “Salem’s Lot” by Stephen King.
Belinda’s eyes were somewhat droopy and she had a satisfied looking smile on her face. Since Belinda was always trying to “create” the perfect mood for performing, Jane couldn’t help but wonder if her friend was pleasantly sedated.
“Salem’s Lot? You haven’t read that yet?” asked Jane.
“I know, can you believe that?” pondered Belinda aloud. “Everyone was reading it my senior year, but I never got around to it,” she added.