Mama Dearest (37 page)

But there was a difference. That being she had a loving, responsible parent guiding her along the way. It was easy to see Derrick had done an extraordinary job raising her, and suddenly I felt a deep inferiority to them both. Also a deep debt, which was why I needed to speak to them both.

The stylist had finished and collected her gear when Madison saw my reflection in the mirror.

“Yancey. How long have you been standing there?” Derrick asked.
I noticed Madison looking away. If she couldn’t look me in the face now, how was it going to be once we hit the set?

“I’m sorry. I just want to speak to the both of you before we begin filming,” I said nervously.

“What’s going on, Yancey?” Derrick asked.

“I just want to thank you both for not vetoing my chance to get this job. I’m really grateful for the chance,” I replied.

“This wasn’t about old relationships, Yancey. It was about who was best for the job, and the director clearly thought it was you,” Derrick said easily. Madison was still ignoring me and was now preoccupied with a script.

“That’s nice of you to say, Derrick, but I know if you or Madison would have said something, this wouldn’t have happened. Also, my lawyer finally discovered that it was you who posted bail for me and I want to thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Yancey. It wasn’t all me,” Derrick said as he looked toward Madison.

“Madison?” I said. She didn’t move and her eyes remained on the pages.

“Madison. Yancey is talking to you. Don’t be rude, little girl.”

“What?” Madison quizzed.

“You were the reason your father posted my bond?”

“What are you talking about?” Madison asked, clearly dodging my question.

“You were the reason I got a chance to audition for this role as well, weren’t you?”

She pretended to be engrossed in adjusting her hair. “Stop talking crazy,” Madison said. She was no better at lying than her father.

“Madison, tell the truth,” Derrick said.

“What do you want me to say to her, Daddy? Do you want me to tell her that I thought that since she did such a rotten job being
my mother in real life that we thought she might be able to do it in a make-believe world? Is that what you want me to say?”

“Is that how you feel, Madison? I wouldn’t blame you if you did. Because you’re right about me being a rotten mother because I was young like you,” I said.

“So that’s your excuse? You were too young? Do you know how many young mothers out there make it work every day? Young ladies who didn’t have the support and love of someone like my dad. Why don’t you just tell the truth and say what’s so? Your career was more important than being a mother. My mother. But looks like you get the chance, if only for a few hours a day.”

“Madison, stop it. Don’t talk to Yancey like that,” Derrick said.

“That’s okay, Derrick. Madison is right. I was selfish. She is telling the truth.”

“That was a long time ago, Yancey. You’ve got to stop beating yourself up,” Derrick said.

“Daddy, why are you taking up for her?” Madison asked with disappointment.

I looked at Derrick and saw the man I had fallen deeply in love with. The first person who I felt really loved me for me. Madison may have missed out on some things, but how lucky she was to have Derrick for her father.

“Derrick, would you give me a few moments alone with Madison? I promise this won’t take long,” I said as I looked at Madison, who was now looking down.

“Sure, I can do that. But both of you need to be on set in ten minutes.”

“We will be there,” I said as Derrick walked out of the dressing room, pulling the door behind him.

For a few moments the room was dead silent as Madison continued to look down and I glanced around the room searching for what words to say.

“Madison, I understand your feelings about me. You wouldn’t be normal if you didn’t harbor harsh feelings about me. What I did was wrong, but I didn’t know better. Even though my mother was around, she was never a mother to me, and I now realize she never loved me. She left me helpless to love you. It wasn’t until I met your dad that I knew what love was,” I said.

“Are we running lines? Is this for the script of some movie you did?” Madison asked.

“This isn’t a movie, Madison. This is life,” I said.

“Yeah, right.”

“Madison, I know I can’t walk in here and ask you to understand. It looks like from the wonderful young lady you’ve become that Derrick did a great job,” I said.

“How would you know that I’m a wonderful young lady? Don’t believe the hype, Yancey. I could be a bitch just like you. We do share the same blood line,” Madison said.

“You could never be the rotten woman I was,” I said.

“Was?”

“It’s never too late to change, Madison. You’ll learn that as you grow older,” I said.

“Maybe the next time we do a little scene like this, they will pipe in music,” Madison said as she stood up and brushed past me, adding, “A real actress is never late to the set.”

Ava’s first party back in society had been all she hoped. Over thirty guests arrived, all of them from, in Ava’s words to Lyrical, “all the right places.” Lyrical, however, was unimpressed. In fact, she was very upset over a slight confession made in confidence after too many glasses of champagne.

Lyrical had begun to suspect Ava had a hand in Yancey’s problem, but never would she have thought she’d set up her own daughter for a drug bust. Although Lyrical knew Ava had a ruthless streak right down to her bone, and while she found Yancey a stuck-up bitch, it was a stretch for her to imagine a mother would do her own daughter so dirty. Her own mother had disappointed her so many times in her childhood, but even a crackhead wasn’t this low down.

Lyrical had the whole night to mull over what she’d heard, and by morning she decided to confront Ava.

“How could you do that to your own daughter?” Lyrical asked.

“Do what, girl?” Ava was making a pot of coffee, pouring out little scoops into the filter.

“Last night when you told me you had helped set up Yancey with the drugs.”

Ava’s hand stopped dead. “I never said that. What kind of bullshit are you talking about?” Ava asked. She gave a brittle laugh as she looked into the cabinet for the bagels she’d purchased.

“Yes, you did. We might have both been a little drunk, but I remember what you said.”

Ava’s shoulders slumped. There was no way she was going to con an ex-con. “She did it to me and I was just giving her what she deserves. The little bitch.”

Lyrical had already added up two plus two. “Does this have anything to do with you meeting with Donnie Ray? Did you get the drugs from him? I don’t like it, Ava.”

Ava stopped and faced Lyrical. “My business with Donnie Ray is just that. My business, Lyrical. Now, have you thought any more about moving to California to be my assistant?”

“I’m not moving, Ava. I’ve told you that a million times. You know what I think? I think you’re trying to buy me off and keep me quiet or something by getting me out of New York. Why don’t you go to the police and tell them that Yancey is innocent? And who is this guy that she keeps talking about but nobody can find?”

Ava gave her a long-suffering look. “Lyrical, you’re bringing me down. All I want to do is have a cup of coffee and a bagel. I need to start packing my stuff. I will call you later on.” She was talking fast, moving swiftly about the kitchen. “And let’s just forget about last night. I mean the bad stuff. The party was a big hit, wasn’t it?”

“I didn’t like any of those people. Thought they were big shit. Are those the kinds of people you used to hang around with?”

“Some of those people were my friends. And I think you’re the one that’s being snooty, Lyrical.”

She couldn’t believe Ava was such a phony. “They weren’t your friends, Ava. A lot of them had never heard of you. One lady told me
she had met you over the internet when you read about her in some society blog. Is that what you’re going to do the rest of your life, use your money to buy friends?”

“Girl, you’re tripping me the fuck out,” Ava said hotly.

“You’re so fake, Ava. Listen at how you’re cussing at me. I thought you told me a real woman didn’t need language like that to make her point.”

“Whatever, bitch. Talk to you later.”

“Don’t walk out on me, Ava. I told you how my mother used to do that and how it made me feel. Don’t do that to me,” Lyrical pleaded.

“Oh shit, you’re going to make me scream! You make my ass hurt. I’m so sick and tired of hearing about your dead drug addict mother,” Ava said harshly. “She’s dead, so build a bridge and get over it! I’m not your mother, Lyrical.”

Tears rushed down Lyrical’s face, and she felt like she’d been hit in the stomach with a baseball again. Still, she was determined to have the last word. “You’re nobody’s mother, Ava. Look what you did to your own daughter.”

I was zipping up the side of my black pencil skirt when I heard a knock at the door.

“Come in,” I said.

Derrick opened the door and peeked in. “Are you decent?”

A part of me wished he had walked in a minute before. “Come on in, Derrick,” I said as I located the red leather belt I usually wore along with a snow-white oxford cloth shirt.

“You did great today. The directors are really pleased with your work, Yancey,” Derrick said.

Did he really come in just to tell me that? “Thanks, Derrick.”

“It couldn’t have been easy. Madison told me what she said, and I really got on her about being so grown.”

“That’s okay, Derrick, and Madison had every right.” I held up a hand to stave off his protest. “She is quite the little actress. You would have never known how much she hates me when we did our scenes.”

“Madison doesn’t hate you, Yancey,” Derrick said, discouraged.
“That’s one thing I know about my little girl; she isn’t capable of hate. Give her a little time and everything will be fine.”

“I deserve whatever happens to me,” I said solemnly.

Derrick was having none of that. “Do you deserve to go to jail for something you didn’t do?”

“I’m hopeful that won’t happen. My lawyer and a friend of mine are trying to help me find the guy who set me up.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Derrick said.

If I didn’t know how protective he was of his daughter, I would think he was making a play for me. “Thanks, Derrick, but you’ve done enough. A lot more than I’ll ever deserve.”

He was pleased by that remark, and he slapped his thigh, thinking of something else. “Say, Madison got some big news.”

“What happened?”

“She’s doing a concert for the president-elect’s daughters. It turns out they’re big fans,” Derrick said.

“Oh, that’s wonderful. I was supposed to sing at one of the victory parties, but my arrest messed that up.” I didn’t really mind, because I was only singing backup. “I sure would like to go to see Madison singing at the White House.”

“Why don’t you come?”

I drew back, immediately refusing. “I don’t know. Madison might not like that. I mean, this is about her. Not me.”

“You can come as my guest,” Derrick said.

There it was again, that sparkle in his eye which I didn’t know how to interpret. “Let me think about it. I don’t want to do anything to upset Madison. This could be a really special night for her,” I said.

“Okay, but I’m sure it wouldn’t be a problem. Do you have plans for this evening?”

“Just to study my lines for tomorrow,” I said, wondering why he asked.

“If you like, I will ask Madison if she’d mind if you joined us for dinner.”

I thought about it for a moment and thought how uncomfortable I would be if I was in Madison’s place, and so I told Derrick I would pass.

He seemed deflated. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay, but this isn’t the last time I will ask you.”

“That’s fair, Derrick,” I said as I reached up and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. He looked surprised but in a good way. He wasn’t looking at me like a protective daddy.

I
WAS STANDING OUTSIDE
the studio in Queens, trying to hail a taxi when my cell phone rang. I saw the 305 area code and thought it might be Marcus finally calling me to explain what was going on. Instantly I answered it.

“Hello.”

“Yancey. This is Jeff. Steven’s partner. We met when you came to Miami. Remember?”

What could he want? “Yes, Jeff, I remember.” Then what he said registered with me. “But you said Steven. I know your partner as Seneca,” I said.

He sounded fretful as he replied. “That was all a part of his plan. I need to talk to you and try and explain what’s going on. Where are you?”

“Right now I’m in Queens on my way back to Manhattan,” I said.

“Do you have plans this evening?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Then you should meet me and I can try and explain what’s going on.”

I would have preferred that S. Marcus do it face-to-face, but I would do anything to find out what had happened. “Sure, I can do that. Where do you want to meet?”

“How long will it take you to get to Manhattan?”