Those delightful moments never seemed to last very long. While on set with Madison a day or so later, I couldn’t find Dallas. When I asked if anyone had seen her, the medic chimed in, “I sent her to the hospital.”
“What?” I cried. “We’re in a foreign country, in the middle of nowhere, and she doesn’t even have an insurance card with her!” Apparently, Dallas’s arm was still bothering her, and when she had asked the medic to take a look, he quickly assessed that it was broken. I was mortified, not to mention that I was also sure she would disappear into a health-care system that would result in thousands of dollars of bills and subpar care. In the end, Dallas healed just fine, but I berated myself for days, which made it that much easier to justify taking more Xanax.
* * *
Once filming wrapped up at the end of October, we headed back to Los Angeles, where Disney put us in the Sheraton Universal, right next to Universal Studios, until we could tie up loose ends with Camp Rock. All the kids were excited about celebrating Halloween together.
“Why don’t you come over to our place and celebrate with us?” Denise Jonas suggested. “We can hang out.”
At the time, the Jonas family was renting a home in Toluca Lake, a neighborhood that sits next to Universal Studios. Every street seemed to have at least one resident movie star. I was in awe that Miley Cyrus lived down the street and Marc Cherry, the creator of Desperate Housewives, lived across the street. Could there be a more idyllic place to live? And, the entire neighborhood was a popular spot for trick-or-treating. I mean REALLY popular. Hundreds of kids from all over LA came to the door that night.
We didn’t see much of the older kids, who scooted off to do their own candy collecting decked out as the cast from High School Musical. Demi went as Gabriella, while Joe was Troy. Meaghan Martin joined them, representing Sharpay Evans, and Anna Maria Perez de Taglé donned a short, blond wig and dressed as Sharpay’s brother, Ryan.
The whole night had a mystical quality about it, especially later when groups of girls camped outside and started singing the boys’ latest hits. I couldn’t help but think that the Jonases were the luckiest people alive to be living in such an amazing neighborhood. Demi, at that point, wasn’t so recognizable, and there was no guarantee that she’d ever get as big as the Jonas Brothers. But that weekend, I had a glimpse of what Disney superstardom might entail, and it was amazing.
We went back to visit the boys a few more times that week, and each time I got a little more envious. One afternoon as I strolled around the block, I stopped at a corner property that caught my eye. Every detail about the Mediterranean-style home—the palm trees by the front door, the peach-colored stucco, the fountain that sounded like falling rain—made me wistful. Three stories tall, it was magnificent. How crazy would it be to live in a place like that? I mused. But I doubted we’d ever have the money to afford something so grand. Besides, I told myself, I don’t want to live in Los Angeles—my home is in Texas!
Though I had to admit that having fans show up at your front door sounded pretty exciting.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“I stood there, holding Madison’s hand and fighting back tears, as I watched them walk away. I wasn’t even sure how I was supposed to get to the airport.”
Why were we doing what we were doing? That was the question I had asked myself over and over again through the years. My answer had always been about the future. “I’m helping my kids reach their dreams,” I’d say. Or, “I’m giving my kids the opportunity to do what they want to do.” But as 2008 loomed in front of us, the future was suddenly very present. Stardom, for Demi, was within reach. It made me remember something I had joked about years earlier. “When you’re all famous,” I had laughed with my girls, “we’ll be like The Beverly Hillbillies and move into a big ole Hollywood mansion and become millionaires!”
Of course, fame and fortune weren’t the main reasons we had worked so hard. Love and passion were huge factors in the equation, too. But anyone who denies that the financial rewards of success aren’t part of the allure of stardom is probably not being honest. Especially because so much time, money, and effort need to be invested along the way. Yet, it was the rush of pride and joy that came after Demi filmed Camp Rock that nearly swallowed me whole. It was more powerful than I expected. And the way my daughter handled all of her new responsibilities made me beam even brighter. Life was good, exciting, and wonderful.
As we eagerly anticipated the release of the movie trailer, set to air on Disney Channel at the end of January, a giant wave of satisfaction washed over me. It was as if all those years of believing in my kids’ talents were finally being validated, and it was intoxicating. I had nibbled at the feeling before, such as when Dallas booked her first commercial and when Demi booked a guest role on Prison Break. But Demi starring in a movie was a whole new level of euphoria. It consumed me at first, making me feel so good, so special, so proud. I’d soon learn that not every aspect of stardom felt so wonderful.
* * *
Despite my hopes that success would usher in a carefree existence, every high moment on our radar screen seemed to be followed by a low one. Just as we started counting down the days until we’d see the Camp Rock trailers, Eddie got laid off at Five Star Ford in North Richland Hills. He’d been there for ten years. It didn’t seem fair, but since he was suddenly free, Eddie decided to travel with Demi, Madison, and me back to Los Angeles for a few days of meetings in early February.
Mandy and Selena, who were now renting a home in Studio City, graciously offered to let us stay at their place while they were out of town, which made Madison giddy with excitement because she’d get to play with Mandy’s four large dogs that she adored. For her, it would be a vacation. For the rest of us, it would be more work than pleasure as we tried to work out the details of Demi’s future.
One of those details involved management. Eddie and I had done an amazing job of getting Demi to this point, but now it was time for someone else with better contacts and connections in the entertainment industry to propel our daughter’s career forward. Just fielding phone calls about press interviews, photo shoots, and tour dates, as well as trying to locate the right scripts for future movie projects and television shows, would have kept us tied up all day long. We knew it was time to turn over the reins to someone who could handle all the details. “Interview at least three companies before you make a decision,” our attorney advised.
Eddie took the lead and met with a few music producers, then scheduled meetings with management firms. “Now that I’m no longer working at Five Star Ford,” Eddie had suggested before we left Texas, “I can help manage Demi. After all, I have the management experience; I just don’t have the contacts.”
The idea resonated with both of us, especially considering that Eddie wouldn’t come to the table empty-handed since he had a master’s degree in finance. It also meant at least one of us would be with Demi as her schedule expanded, and that was important to me. As a parent, Eddie could help protect our daughter from working too much and succumbing to teenage pressures on the road, while giving me time to focus on Dallas’s and Madison’s needs at home. I’d continue to help Demi when I could, offering to be with her when she was doing television and movie projects. But I figured Eddie could handle the music end of things. And, if Eddie was part of management, we’d also be able to draw a salary to help pay the bills—something that seemed only fair since we essentially had been managing our kids and paying all their business-related expenses for more than a decade. “Why should someone else reap all the benefits from our work over the years?” we asked ourselves. Our plan, though, wasn’t heartily endorsed.
“I want to be part of the team,” Eddie said as we sat at the table for our first meeting.
“Of course,” the man replied, “parents are always part of the team, and we appreciate their feedback.”
“No, you don’t understand,” Eddie insisted. “I mean I want to be part of your management team and co-manage my daughte
r with you.”
His answer was swift and firm. “Well, that’s not going to happen,” he scoffed. So we left and tried again, only to hear similar sentiments. Letting parents get so involved wasn’t common practice.
On February 12, we went to dinner with Phil McIntyre, then twenty-five, who owned Philymack Inc., and Kevin Jonas Sr., who ran The Jonas Group. Together, they both co-managed the Jonas Brothers, along with Wright Entertainment Group. We had met the pair on the set of Camp Rock, where they both had expressed interest in managing Demi and putting her on tour with the boys. They also seemed open to the idea of parents being involved. Eddie was especially drawn to Phil, who, as he put it, “was full of piss and vinegar.” The young manager’s energy and vision were appealing.
As we ate dinner that night, it became clear that someone finally understood our desires and concerns. Phil and Kevin Sr. both had an appreciation for teamwork, and before the evening was over, we came to an agreement that involved Demi going on tour with the boys that summer and Eddie helping to co-manage her career. It was an answer to our prayers.
The next day, sitting at Mandy’s kitchen table, we signed the papers for Demi’s record deal with Hollywood Records, which had been a result of her meeting with Bob Cavallo, chairman of Disney Music Group at the time, in his impressive office. After Demi played her original songs for him on her Ovation guitar, he was sold. Before we left, he told Demi, “I’m going to give you the same hug that I gave Hilary Duff and Miley Cyrus when they left this office.” It was a day that wildly exceeded our expectations.
We tried to imagine what we were getting ourselves into, but none of us really knew. There wasn’t much time to think about it, either. On Valentine’s Day, which also was Eddie’s birthday, we met Phil and Kevin Sr. at Demi’s photo shoot, scheduled with one of the teen magazines.
It was all smiles and handshakes until Phil uttered a few instructions. “The tour bus is swinging by after Demi is finished—we’d like her to come on board and join us for a while,” he said. “She needs to feel what it’s like to be part of the group, and it’ll give her time to start writing new songs.”
Of course, we had talked about Demi going on tour, and I knew it would take place someday, but I had no idea that it would happen so soon. Every maternal fiber within me suddenly felt stretched to the breaking point.
“Now?” I choked. “Today?” As everyone around me nodded, my hands started to tremble. I watched Demi climb on board, pushing back every fear and tear clawing at my composure. The instant those bus doors closed, my world changed forever—and so did Demi’s. My baby girl is gone, I moaned. She’s only fifteen—and she took Eddie with her.
Suddenly everything was upside down. For years, it had been me running off to LA, telling Eddie that we’d see him in a few weeks. Now my husband was leaving and Demi was by his side, not mine. Don’t get me wrong, there was plenty of joy and excitement, but my heart felt torn and bruised. I no longer had my finger on the pulse of my daughter’s life, and it felt odd. And wrong. Everything was off-kilter, and I struggled to feel safe.
That’s when I realized I hadn’t really thought this part of the journey through. Saying good-bye wasn’t supposed to happen until she went off to college, I railed. I don’t even know how Madison and I are supposed to get to the airport from here!
I cried all the way home to Texas.
* * *
Back in Colleyville, I clung to the safety of routines. Dallas was still auditioning and taking lessons from Cathryn and so was Madison. And I focused on reuniting with Demi in March, just a few weeks away, when we’d both head to Puerto Rico for the filming of Princess Protection Program, another Disney Channel Original Movie starring both Demi and Selena. The movie was projected to be a success, and a year later when it was released, it was, even winning a Teen Choice Award. But that spring, all I cared about was reconnecting with my daughter.
Shortly before I left for Puerto Rico, Eddie called and filled me in on Demi’s schedule. “They’re thinking Demi should do a small solo tour in June,” he said, “and then join the Jonas Brothers on their Burnin’ Up Tour in July.” The more we talked, the more I began to realize my daughter needed more than Eddie’s guidance in the days ahead. She’d need some female companionship, too. Eddie would be great at assisting with tour dates and recording contracts, and I was sure he’d even give Demi a boost of confidence when she needed it. But who was going to help my daughter change outfits in a hurry? Who was going to help when her mascara got smudged? Who was going to hug her and not let go when things got rocky?
I knew those things were important, too. So I called Lisa and offered her a full-time job. “You’ll be part chaperone, part assistant, part companion, and part substitute mother,” I told her. “But you’ve known her since birth, so who could possibly be more qualified than you?” It was a lot to ask, but Lisa agreed to step into the role, even though it meant she’d have to quit her job and give away her two cats. She promised to start in June, when Demi went on tour.
I raced off to Puerto Rico feeling like the future seemed a little more secure. Madison came, too, and Eddie met us on set. Our little family reunion, minus Dallas, lasted several weeks. During that time, I also spent a lot of time with Mandy. Sometimes we stood side by side on set, and some days we lounged by the pool exchanging girl talk. We also watched our daughters become as close as sisters, and at times, just as ornery. One afternoon, Demi and Selena started fighting so fiercely that Mandy ordered them to retreat to their trailer, hoping they could settle their argument in private. Instead, the volume of their dispute only escalated. “HELP!” she texted me, “I don’t know how to stop the screaming and yelling.”
“Leave them alone,” I assured her. “I’ve seen this a million times with Dallas and Demi. Let them work it out. If we try to intervene, it’ll just get worse.”
Sure enough, they got past it and came out of that trailer hugging and laughing.
About midway through filming, Demi needed to fly to New York City for the weekend because Disney was hosting an executive meeting where they wanted to introduce Demi to everyone on the team. As part of the event, she would sing “This Is Me” from Camp Rock to some of the most influential people in the corporation.
Because it was a late-night event that revolved around a lot of socializing, Lisa agreed to fly to Puerto Rico to watch Madison so Eddie and I could fully enjoy the weekend. Judy Taylor planned to accompany us on our flight, while Gary Marsh, who, at the time, was president of entertainment at Disney Channels Worldwide, told us he’d meet us in New York. The thought that I’d be sitting for several hours next to Judy—the woman in charge of talent for Disney—made me queasy. What would we talk about? As it turned out, that trip together would cement our friendship for years to come.
Our small posse of four descended on the island airport early in the morning, armed with jittery excitement. We all sensed the importance of the New York event, and everyone had forgone casualwear for dressier attire. Judy and I were both wearing dress boots with high heels, and all of us pulled small suitcases. As we milled about waiting to board the plane, someone suddenly announced that the departure gate had changed. Off we went, running to another wing of the terminal. Clip-clop! Clip-clop! Judy and I sounded like a team of mules chugging toward a barn. “Oh, well,” I laughed. “A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do!”
Just as we arrived at the new boarding area, another announcement told us to head to another gate. Off we went again, this time even faster. Departure was now imminent, and if we missed our flight, we’d never make it to New York in time for the evening’s event. Everyone understood the urgency and decided a full-out sprint was in order. Eddie took the lead, shouting, “This way!” Demi, shaking her head in disbelief, ran beside me, while Judy and I clip-clopped across the linoleum floor like high-stepping Arabian horses. The sound of our boots was deafening, making everyone on the sidelines a bit curious. When yet a third change was announced, we made a U-turn and heade
d back toward a hallway we had already passed. That’s when Judy suddenly looked like she was training for a marathon. She swooshed past all of us in a heartbeat. As I struggled to keep up, my footsteps thudded even louder. The whole scenario was surreal. Then it hit me: This lady in front of me is mega-important to Disney, but right now we’re just two ladies in heels trying to make our flight and looking ridiculous. That insight finally relaxed my anxiety.
As we fastened our seat belts on our connecting flight, the stewardess came on the loudspeaker to give instructions. The trouble was no one could understand a word she was saying. Her accent made every syllable sound like gibberish.
That was it. Judy and I took one look at each other and busted up laughing. And we couldn’t stop. The entire morning had been too weird and too stressful, and we simply lost control. Our shoulders shook. Our lungs heaved. And our stifled hilarity sounded like sobs. By the time the plane took off, my cheeks hurt from laughing so hard.
That trip was something Judy and I would talk about for years, and it was just the comic relief I needed to calm my nerves. Maybe it was what Demi needed, too, because that night when she sang in front of all those high-powered executives, she brought the house down. It was the perfect ending to a most unusual day. But I vowed I’d never wear heels in an airport again. And I haven’t.
Falling with Wings Page 19