Mama Dearest (17 page)

Lyrical got right down to business. “How much are you going to pay me?”

“I won’t have a lot of money at first, but my train is coming in soon, so you’re going to have to trust me,” Ava said.

“What about what you promised?”

“What are you talking about?”

“About teaching me how to be a lady and shit.” She pounded the table with a solid thump. “You promised. Since I never had a mother to teach me those things I’m depending on you, Ava. If my own mother had lived, I wouldn’t be in this position,” Lyrical said.

“I know, boo,” Ava said, picking up her drink. How was she going to avoid this conversation? The one she’d had with Lyrical many times while they were in prison. How Lyrical had lost her mother to AIDS when she was ten, when her mother got mixed up with the wrong guy and became hooked on drugs. If Ava had to hear that story one more time, she was going to scream.

“So when are we going to start our lessons?”

“Very soon, hon.”

Lyrical didn’t sound happy being put off like that. “What will I do as your personal assistant, and will I have time for my music?”

“You will do a little bit of everything, and sure, you’ll have time for your music. Besides, you work on that basically at night. Am I right?”

Lyrical nodded grudgingly. “Yeah, that’s right. Let me think about it for a couple of days.”

“Okay. Do you think I can meet your boyfriend Donnie Ray?”

Lyrical appeared crestfallen. “What do you want to meet him for? I thought this was about my music career and your new business.”

“It is but I think he might be able to help me do a favor for a friend, who will in turn do a favor for me and you. Do you get my drift?”

“Oh, I see that’s how it works. Sure, I can make the hookup. When do you want to meet him?”

“As soon as possible. Do you want a drink?”

“No, honey,” Lyrical said, looking around the room. “No telling who might be in this joint scoping us bitches out. If I were you, I’d be more careful.”

“Ava is always careful,” she said with a sip. “Trust me on that one. So suit yourself. I’m going to get my drink on.”

It had been five days since I’d returned from Miami and still no word from S. Marcus about whether he’d found the financing for my show. Things were getting tighter by the minute. Every time my cell or land line rang and an 800 or unfamiliar ZIP code flashed across the screen, I grew agitated that yet another bill collector had learned how to get in contact with me.

My mortgage company was trying to goad me into a quick sale of my town house, but I wasn’t going to do that because then there wouldn’t be money to buy something cheaper in New York or even Florida, where I had now decided I wanted to live if something didn’t come up acting-wise. And if the auditions I’d been going to were any indication, that wasn’t going to happen soon. I’d gone on several national commercial castings but wasn’t called back. There was one soap opera audition that I really wanted, but they decided to go with someone older. It seemed I couldn’t win.

So the reality show would serve two purposes: bringing me back into the public eye and shoring up my finances. S. Marcus told me
that a lot of people with financial problems looming always bought property in Florida because of more lenient bankruptcy laws. I had to admit that as long as it was taking to get my show going, I liked being around S. Marcus. His age or lack of honesty at times was of no concern to me. If it was good enough for Demi Moore and Cher then it was good enough for me.

Just as I’m finishing the first half of my sandwich, my cell phone rings. I see it’s S. Marcus. I use the linen napkin to brush the side of my mouth and smile as I answer.

“Hey, baby girl. What’s shaking?”

“Just having myself a little lunch my housekeeper fixed for me,” I lied.

“I didn’t know you had a housekeeper.”

“Oh yes. Her name is Tilda and she’s been with me for years. She must have been off when you visited me.” Sometimes when I make up these quick stories I think maybe I should consider writing a novel like Kimberla Lawson Roby, an author I started reading on long bus rides.

“Well I guess I’ll be seeing a lot of Tilda in the future.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. Having to hire some imaginary housekeeper was the last thing I needed to add to my woes.

“Are you sitting down?”

“Of course I am.”

“It looks like Jeff is going to finance your reality show. It certainly will get green-lit with financing. You brought your A game, Yancey, and he was impressed just like I knew he’d be.”

“You’re kidding,” I said as I jumped up from the table, spilling the cranberry juice and lime onto the tray. Now I really did need a maid to clean up this mess.

“Nope.” He laughed. “We even thought of a catchy title.”

“You did? What?”

“Diva-Tude
. I love it, but I can’t take credit. It was Jeff’s idea. There
are still a few things to work out, like with the cast. But I think since we’re not going to use your mother, your housekeeper might be an excellent replacement. Is she foreign?”

“Yes. Hispanic,” I lied quickly. I started to add that she spoke with a German accent but stopped myself.

“Okay. I have to check her out even though I like the idea of getting a quirky assistant like the one in the
Kathy Griffin Show,
maybe even two. We could have a guy and a girl.”

“Two,” I squealed. “That would be fierce, Marcus. Trust me, I can find plenty of stuff for them to do. Maybe one of them can be gay. Most likely the guy because a gay girl would surely spend her time trying to hit on me, which is understandable but not cool.”

“That might be cool. We’ll talk about all that when I come to New York and scout some locations.”

“I thought we’d film it here,” I said, hoping that part of the budget could be used to pay my mortgage and back taxes. I realized suddenly that I also needed a severe wardrobe makeover. It had been years since I was able to buy a nice dress or a pair of good shoes.

“Do you really want to do that? I mean if people found out where you live you might open yourself up to stalkers and the crazies.”

“Trust me, I’m not afraid of any stalkers. All I’ve got to do is put my mother on them.” I laughed.

“Let me talk to Jeff and see what he thinks. There are plenty of places in New York we could rent and shoot the show. I even like the idea of finding a place in Harlem.”

“I know what we can do,” I said, wanting to tell him that the doll wasn’t doing Harlem, no matter how trendy it became.

“What’s that?”

“Maybe we could find me something nice and small in Florida. You know if I’m really making a comeback, then I need to have a second home.”

“We can look into that but what might be cool is to show a softer
side of you and get something in New Orleans where you could do some charity work in your spare time.”

“New Orleans? Do those people still need help down there?”

“Yes, Yancey,” he said as if he were talking to a child. “There is still plenty of work to do in New Orleans.”

I thought about it for a minute and said, “Okay. Look, I’ll do whatever I have to do but I’m sure there are some charity things I can do on South Beach as well.”

“We got plenty of time to decide, baby girl.”

“Marcus, you have made my day. No, my year! Remind me that when I see you in the flesh that you deserve something special.”

“No doubt, baby girl. No doubt.”

Just as I hung up the phone, it rang again; it was Dalton.

“Hey Boo.”

“Yancey, what’s shaking?”

“Nothing much, just got off the phone with the boyfriend.”

“How’s that going?”

“Umm … it’s okay.”

“I thought you were pretty excited about him.”

“I am but you know men. Don’t get me started,” I said, not really wanting to get into the subject any deeper.

“Listen,” Dalton said, “I got some exciting news for you.”

“What?”

“I talked to the director of
Claudine
and they’re interested in having you come in today to sing for them.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes ma’am. I told them how fabulous you are. The casting director said she knew of you.”

Was that good or bad? “And they still want to see me?”

“Yes!”

“Will you be there, Dalton?”

“No, I’m nursing a little neck injury.”

That was a tune I’d heard before. “Neck injury? Child, I hope you have good insurance because there’s always something wrong with you.”

“Thank God for SAG.”

“Do you need anything?”

“I need you to go in there and sing your face off, bitch!”

It was a little too forceful, but I smiled. “Oh, I’ll do that. Do you think they will let me bring cameras in for my reality show?”

“These are show business people, Yancey. You know they want a camera anytime they can get one.”

“Okay. Where do I go?”

“The Michael Bennett Studios on Sixth Avenue and 56th Street.”

“What time?”

“Six o’clock.”

“I’m there, thanks, Dalton. I’m so glad you’re in my life. Oh, by the way, I listened to your music when I was working out. You really are a great songwriter.”

He was very pleased to hear that. “Thanks, Yancey, I’m glad you liked it. What did you think of ‘Dearest One’?”

“I loved that one! That’s the one where you had a female singing with you.”

“Yeah, I see it as a duet.”

That was the sort of song I loved to sing, back in the day.

“Great song.”

“Thank you. I hope one day to hear you singing it.”

“With a guy?”

His voice sounded thoughtful. “I think two females can sing it. Maybe a younger singer because I wrote that as a tribute to my mother.”

“You’re probably right,” I said as I looked at my watch. It was a little past four and I needed to get dressed.

“Good luck with the audition. I’m sure you’ll be perfect.”

“Let’s hope so. I need to get ready.”

“Bye, sweetie.”

“Bye, Dalton. I’ll text you after the audition.”

“Do that.”

Ava walked into the living room with her robe still on and a sleeping mask resting on her forehead. She looked like she was sleepwalking on her way to the kitchen.

“Good afternoon, Ava,” I said, practically bursting inside with my fabulous news. This was going to kill her but good and I couldn’t wait to tell her.

“Is it that late already?” she asked as she twisted off the top of a bottle of water. “I see the food fairy hasn’t paid a visit overnight.”

“I just got some incredible news so that might be changing soon,” I said, but regretted telling Ava this as soon as the words left my mouth.

She was suddenly wide awake. “What? You contact that daughter of yours?”

“No, Ava. I told you I’m not interfering with Madison’s life.”

“I’d think about it if I were you. It would solve a lot of problems for the both of us. That little bitch is rich.”

“That’s her money and I’m happy for her. Madison made her money and I’m going to make mine again. Oh, am I going to make mine.”

“You talking about that man who’s promised you a reality show?”

“It’s going to happen and you better believe that shit,” I said firmly. “And I have an audition this evening for the lead in a Broadway show.”

“What show?”

“I’m not telling.”

“Why?”

“Just not. I shouldn’t have said anything to you about my reality show.”

Ava tried to suppress a laugh but couldn’t stop herself. “Yeah, if you believe that I got a condo in Florida I want to sell you.” She walked out of the kitchen back toward the guest room.

Madison couldn’t believe her ears.

“So they really want to give me a reality show, Daddy?”

“It sure sounds that way, sweetheart. Your manager called me a few hours ago and said VH-1 gave the project the green light. They want to follow you as you pick a new assistant and record your first album.”

She took a bite of her turkey club sandwich from room service and shot her father a playful look of exasperation.

“CD, Daddy. It’s a CD, not an album. Album is old school,” Madison joked.

He laughed. “Whatever. Should I tell them you want to do it?”

“But what if the series is picked up?”

“Who said you couldn’t do them both?”

“Nobody, but you know I have to do some dates with the
American Star
tour. Is there any way we can get out of that?”

“Now Madison, we made a commitment, so no. But if you think it’s too much, I’ll tell VH-1 no. There’s plenty of time down the line for some of the other projects.”

“I don’t want to wait. VH-1 will be important for my career. Especially when my music drops. I don’t think it would be wise to make them mad at us.”

“So I’m telling them yes,” Derrick said. He picked a cold French fry from Madison’s plate. “You’re not going to eat those, are you?”

She put a hand over her belly. “No carbs. I have a photo shoot in two days,” Madison said.

“So I don’t guess the bread counts.”

“Daddy, are you saying I’m gaining weight?”

He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. “Sweetheart, I didn’t say that and you know how I feel about diets. I just want you to eat healthy.”

“You don’t have to worry about me looking like Nicole Richie. I love my body.”

“Good, and you should, no matter what. So we’re telling VH-1 yeah.”

She nodded her head brightly. “I think so.”

“Now, you know they will want to be privy to every part of your life.”

“They won’t be following me into the bathroom, will they?”

“You know I wouldn’t let that happen.”

“And never without makeup.”

“I’m not going to promise that. I still can’t get used to you wearing makeup anyway.”

“Daddy, I’m growing up. I’m almost a full-fledged woman.”

“I know but not too soon,” Derrick said as he leaned over and kissed his daughter on her forehead again.

“Have you talked to Shanice lately?”

“Madison, what did I tell you about dipping into grown folks’ business?”

“I’m almost a grown folks myself.” Madison laughed.