* * *
Once filming ended in Puerto Rico, I returned to Texas, packed a few bags, and raced off to Florida with Madison, where we met Eddie and Demi for the Disney Games, a fund-raiser for several children’s charities, including UNICEF and Make-A-Wish Foundation, that featured various team competitions at the Walt Disney World Resort. The Jonas Brothers were there, too. Although Demi’s schedule was quickly becoming a whirlwind, that particular trip was like a weeklong party, and the festive atmosphere did us all good. Disney put us up in a hotel in Animal Kingdom, and we even had time for typical family activities, such as riding rides and watching fireworks. The most thrilling thing for me was finally getting to see Demi perform in front of a large audience. There was only one sour note the entire week, and it happened at dinner one night.
We were waiting for our food to arrive when my phone rang. “Probably Dallas,” I said. But it wasn’t; it was her boyfriend.
“I don’t know what to do,” he bellowed. “Dallas took off to get cocaine from her dealer, and she’s not answering her phone!”
The news stunned me. My daughter? Was he serious? “Please,” I begged, “go stop her. We’re too far away to do anything.”
All night I thought about Dallas, trying to remember if I had seen any signs of drug use. I hadn’t. The only thing that was out of the ordinary was that she had dropped a bunch of weight rather quickly. I didn’t think it was related to cocaine use. Then again, what mother really wants to believe her daughter is into drugs? Sure, there were lots of nights when Dallas stayed out late, but she was twenty and could come and go as she pleased. I couldn’t recall ever smelling alcohol on her breath or seeing her eyes look glassy.
Maybe it was my desire to avoid conflict or maybe it was what most parents do when they see dangerous signs of behavior in their kids, but I was all too willing to rationalize that my daughter was fine. Besides, in my mind we needed to be the perfect family or Disney wouldn’t continue to work with Demi. No, I decided, I couldn’t really pinpoint anything specific about drug use, so I wasn’t going to accuse my daughter of something that potentially wasn’t true. And even if she was using, I figured it wasn’t anything more than a phase she was going through. When I got home, I sat down with Dallas and told her that I didn’t think she was using drugs but if she was, she needed to stop. “I’m not using drugs,” she scoffed, telling me exactly what I wanted to hear.
That’s how little I understood about addiction.
* * *
Right before Demi started rehearsals for her minitour, I got a phone call from Linda Henrie. We had stayed in touch ever since our days on set for Wizards, where I had learned she was a manager in the acting business.
“I just saw an audition notice that would be perfect for Madison,” she exclaimed. “It’s to play Eva Longoria’s daughter on Desperate Housewives.”
Right, like we have a shot at that! I thought.
After Linda sent me the sides, I sat down and read through the lines. So did Madison. The scene involved Gaby, played by Eva, who discovers both of her children inside a closet eating Twinkies and then proceeds to shame them. I didn’t like the drift of the script. One of Gaby’s lines—“Skinny girls get husbands, and fat girls get jobs.”—left me with a bad feeling. I certainly didn’t want my daughter to be labeled as fat.
“Just not sure I like the content,” I told Linda afterward, “so I think we’ll pass on this one.”
Madison was disappointed, but we put the script aside and the two of us headed to Hersheypark, an amusement park in Pennsylvania, where Demi was kicking off her first solo tour. All of the venues on the tour were small stages at either amusement parks or House of Blues locations. Because Camp Rock hadn’t come out yet, we decided we should make flyers and distribute them inside the park to encourage people to show up. I knew Demi would feel bad if she had to face empty seats. Lisa, already working for us, said she’d help with the flyers and tend the merchandise booth after the show. Demi wasn’t a headliner yet, so garnering some excitement about her was all on us. Or so we thought.
The park was packed with families that June day, and we congratulated ourselves for having the foresight to make flyers. But no one would take any. As the sun rose higher in the sky and the heat became unbearable, we doubled our efforts to get a few takers, even resorting to begging. With my hair drooping and mascara melting, I doggedly followed anyone who tried to walk around us.
“Would you please come to see Demi Lovato?” I pleaded, thrusting flyers in their faces. When several people rolled their eyes and shrugged their shoulders, I felt I had to speak up for my daughter. “You know,” I pointed out, “she’s Disney’s newest star—the one who’s in Camp Rock!”
None of it made a difference. In fact, families started walking farther and farther around us. After an hour, my confidence was shattered. As a smiling grandmother ambled by, I figured she was my last shot. “You probably don’t want to go to this show, but here’s a flyer anyway,” I sighed. But even she walked away empty-handed. I knew then that our efforts were meaningless. “I’m never doing this again,” I whined to Lisa. “I just can’t take the rejection. Besides, it’s too damn hot!”
As Lisa and I walked back to the stage, we contemplated how to break the news to Demi that no one was coming to her show, which is why we were astounded when we rounded the bend to the amphitheater to see several hundred people waiting to take their seats. The second show drew an even larger crowd. Apparently, there were Disney Channel fans in the park that day; they just weren’t wandering anywhere near Lisa or me. It was such a relief!
* * *
Soon after Madison and I returned home from Hersheypark, another set of sides arrived from CESD. Again, the role was for Eva Longoria’s daughter on Desperate Housewives. This time, though, Juanita’s lines were sassier and more confident, suggesting that the character, although still a bit chubby, was happy with herself and willing to dish it back to anyone who criticized her. I liked the new direction and thought it was important that the character was willing to stand up and say that she liked herself, even though she wasn’t perfect like her mother wanted her to be. That message was one I could let my daughter embrace.
But any role with weight issues is touchy, so I took a seat on one of the steps to our staircase and patted the space next to me, asking Madison to sit down. “We need to talk about this,” I said.
“Mom, please let me do this,” she begged. “Let me try.” But I still had misgivings. I pointed out the changes in the script and what had stayed the same. Then we discussed how fans might respond to Juanita’s role.
“Maybe you should wait for the next script that comes along,” I suggested. But my six-and-a-half-year-old daughter was insistent.
“Pleeeaaase!” she whined again. “Let me try.… I can handle it. I promise.” But I wasn’t ready to concede. “You don’t understand,” she continued, arguing like a grown-up. “I think this can happen for me!” The more I tried to talk her into waiting for another script to come along, the more she begged to be put on tape. “Please let me try. I have a real shot at this,” she insisted.
I doubted that she did, but I went to Dallas and asked if she’d put her on tape. The two worked on the sides together for an hour before Dallas filmed her. That evening the tape was on its way to LA, and once again, we kept our fingers crossed that someone would watch it.
At 10:00 a.m., two days after mailing the tape, Pedro from CESD called. “How fast can you get here?” he asked. “The audition is Monday morning.” He also told me it was a mix-and-match, which meant they’d be putting various people together to read scripts, looking to see whose chemistry worked best together.
“Pedro,” I sighed, “it’s Friday, and you’re telling me to find a flight that will get me in LA before Monday morning. That’s going to cost about three thousand dollars!”
“I know,” he said, “but it’ll be worth it.”
“Well, I’m not going to waste that kind of money unless
you can guarantee that they’re not going to take one look at Madison and dismiss her because she’s too tall or too old for the part,” I insisted. “So right now, you need to show her picture to everyone and call me back.”
A few minutes later, Pedro was back on the phone. Again, he asked, “How soon can you get here?”
Madison and I left that Sunday morning and walked into the audition on Monday only to meet a young girl who acted like the part was already hers. She told us she knew the director because they had worked together before. I tried not to stew about the wasted money, as Madison tried not to act disappointed. “Let’s make the best of it and have a good time,” I shrugged, hoping to lighten the mood. “After all, we’re in LA!”
When Demi’s tour bus pulled into our driveway about a week later in early July, the lingering sting of that disappointing trip to LA had already passed. I ran out and snapped photos of Demi in front of her bus like she was going to the prom.
“This is amazing,” I squealed when I hopped on board, giving Demi a hug. The bus was far fancier than anything I had ever been on during my career, which made me swell with pride. My plan was to catch Demi’s show in Oklahoma, then fly back home. Madison had decided to stay behind and go fishing with her cousins, which meant I’d have Demi all to myself. Just as we started rolling out of the driveway, my phone rang.
“Congratulations!” Pedro shouted. “Madison got the role of Juanita!”
I was speechless. Stunned. And blissfully unaware of the changes about to happen in our lives. I hung up and immediately called Madison, who seemed way too calm about the news. “Madison,” I asked, “do you understand what I’m telling you?”
“Nooo,” she said. When I blurted out, “You got the part,” she responded as nonchalantly as Demi had when she had gotten the Barney role. “Oh, cool,” Madison replied. “I’m gonna go fishing now.” How can you be so calm? I thought.
For the next hour, I went over Madison’s contract with our attorney and CESD on a conference call. Most of what they said, though, sailed right over my head because all I could hear was this inner voice exclaiming, Eva Longoria’s daughter! Eva Longoria’s daughter!
But I did hear Pedro say, “You’re going to need a place to live in LA.”
“Oh, no, no, no,” I insisted. “We’ll stay at our house in Texas and fly out as needed.”
Then our attorney jumped in. “Dianna, you don’t understand,” she said. “You have to be on set by six a.m. most mornings.”
“You mean this isn’t just a few episodes?” I asked.
“No,” Pedro explained, “Madison could be part of the cast for the next several years. We’ll get you both a room at the Oakwood for the first month until you can find a place of your own.”
And that was that. “Looks like we’re moving to Hollywood,” I stuttered to Demi.
“Well, you were going to come out in September anyway for the filming of Sonny with a Chance,” she said, like it was no big deal.
But I was trembling inside. I could feel everything starting to spin faster and faster. I clasped my hands together and gave myself a pep talk. You can do this! Remember, mind over matter! Doubting my resolve, I casually reached for my purse and checked to see if my bottle of Xanax was still tucked inside. Buckle up, the voice in my head blared. You’re about to take the ride of your life—ARE YOU READY?
At that moment, I wasn’t.
The Hollywood Years
JULY 2008—SEPTEMBER 2014
“It’s beauty in the struggle, ugliness in the success,
Hear my words or listen to my signal of distress…”
—“LOVE YOURZ” BY J. COLE
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“I liked having people look at us with envy, imagining that they were thinking, ‘Oh, they must have the perfect life!’”
“Mom, look!” Madison gasped.
My wide-eyed daughter was mesmerized by the arrival of Eva Longoria. It was a little after 6:00 a.m. on the first day of filming Desperate Housewives, although at that hour everyone was just hanging out in a trailer at base camp in the Universal lot, awaiting the day’s scripts. Eva, wrapped in a fluffy robe and wearing Uggs, sat nearby in a tall director’s chair doing a sudoku puzzle, while Madison stared in adoration. As she continued to gaze without flinching, I grew more uncomfortable.
“Psst! Come over here,” I quietly urged, though Madison refused to listen. “Now,” I said, a bit louder. Still, she continued her vigil. Finally, I went over and whispered, “We have to give her some space.” Heck, I wanted to stare, too, but I couldn’t let go of my need to be the perfect stage mom. “Okay,” Madison reluctantly agreed.
We had arrived in Los Angeles within a week of Pedro’s phone call. It was mid-July of 2008, and my little girl was excited to begin her Hollywood experience. From the moment we stepped off the plane, ABC provided us with everything we needed—a car, executive housing at the Oakwood (which came completely furnished with everything from sofas and televisions to dishes and towels!), and day sheets telling us what we needed to do and where we needed to be each morning. I had to admit, all the pampering and attention made me more receptive to moving so far from home.
At first Madison’s schedule was rather light, mostly getting fitted for wardrobe and having some pictures taken, so we spent nearly every free moment binge-watching past episodes of Desperate Housewives. We laughed and giggled, “oohed” and “aahed,” and fast-forwarded through the sections that weren’t appropriate for young kids, all in an effort to get caught up on the storylines that had evolved over the past four seasons. It was too early to determine how big of a role my daughter would have on the show, but that didn’t stop me from imagining that she’d become as famous as Eva Longoria. And it didn’t stop me from fantasizing that someday friends and family would finally stop thinking that we were crazy, and instead, they’d envy our success.
Less than a week after our arrival, Demi arrived in California, too. She had a show scheduled in Anaheim, and when Madison and I went to see her, the crowds were immense and enthusiastic. She was evolving into a star right before my eyes, and it made me feel so proud and so excited for her future! I was grateful that our wildest dreams were coming true.
Because Demi could now afford to hire all of the help she needed, I brought Lisa home with me after the show and asked her to be my assistant. Then I assigned her the task of finding us a five-bedroom house to rent as Madison and I spent most of our days on set.
* * *
Madison’s first days of filming set the tone for all the rest to follow. Shortly after 5:30 a.m., I’d wake my daughter and slip some shoes on her feet, even though she was still in her pajamas. Once she crawled into the car, she’d quickly fall back asleep until we got to the studio. Every morning when I flashed my pass to enter Universal’s private lot, it gave me a heady sense of importance to know that I had access to a place where so many others desired to go but couldn’t. We were part of the lucky few—our hard work had paid off!
Still trying to be the most prepared mom in the business, I brought along a bag filled with necessities such as toothbrushes, toothpaste, extra clothes, Nintendo games, and a bunch of schoolwork. Her lovely set teacher, Ms. Sandy, would make sure Madison completed three hours of academic work each day before she left for home, as it was a mandatory rule for all children working in the industry.
I quickly learned that a few items in my bag were unnecessary.
“What would you like for breakfast?” the man from craft services asked that first morning, “A potato-egg-cheese burrito? Pancakes? An omelet?”
I looked at the banana and Pop-Tart I had packed for Madison and decided their choices were far better than mine. By late afternoon, someone else was inviting us to a huge gourmet dinner. I could get used to this! I decided. Not that I was eating much, but not having to worry about preparing meals for Madison was a huge relief. The best surprise, though, was learning how nice and friendly everyone was, especially Eva Longoria, who would
be Madison’s mother on the show, and Ricardo Antonio Chavira, who would be her father.
Both had great parenting instincts, and I especially loved how often they wrapped their arms around Madison, telling her she did a great job. I also adored how Ricardo affectionately dubbed Madison mija, which in Spanish means “my daughter.” Eva, always friendly and upbeat, solidly proved her heart was just as pure as her looks when she insisted one spring that Madison come over to her house and paint Easter eggs. Surprisingly, no one—not Eva, Ricardo, or the directors—knew during those first few months that either of us was related to Demi, which made me realize that Madison had secured her role totally on her own merits. As it turned out, she was such a natural that she rarely had to film a scene twice, earning her the title of “One-Take Wonder.”
I was so proud of my youngest daughter, but what I cherished the most was how close we became during those years. Madison, now quite the talker, told me stories every day about what happened on set. I devoured her news like it was the most delicious part of my day. And it was, especially since I often stayed out of the way, rather than hovering around her during filming. One day, she tried to tell me about a scene that she had done with Eva … something about a fight … with a pencil … over a book … but Madison was laughing so hard, I couldn’t make sense of what she was saying. I laughed with her just the same. I loved that my daughter was so happy.
Life on set was so surreal at times that I wondered if I was dreaming. I loved how magical it all seemed. I loved the people we interacted with. And I loved how attentive everyone was to our needs. I also cherished the perks that came along with the job—invitations to movie premieres, access to award shows, and more financial freedom.
But I wasn’t happy. Texas was my home, not Los Angeles. I missed my friends, my family, and my church. Surrounded by strangers, I no longer knew who I was. Leaving Texas was never part of the plan, I reminded myself as I tried to adjust to our new circumstance. In fact, we had no plans to sell our home in Colleyville because I knew that someday we’d return. Maybe in a few years, maybe longer, but there was no doubt that we would return.
Falling with Wings Page 20