For the Love of Money (9 page)

“Wow. Just like that,” Wendy said. “So there was no funny business going on with the name change at all, it was just a professional thing?”

“Yes, that's all that it was,” I responded. “So everyone out there adding their own particular twist to it needs to grow up.” I was still appalled by the whole lesbian thing. I wondered how far the rumor had traveled.

Did Mercedes know about
that
? She
was
still connected to the streets more than anyone else I knew. My concentration was blown again. I just couldn't believe how twisted things could get once you become a celebrity.

Wendy said, “;So, have you already been asked a bunch a questions about that? Is it an old story for you by now?”

“Actually, I
haven't
been asked a lot about it,” I told her. “That's why I
knew that I would have to say something to someone sooner or later. I guess I just didn't know what kind of rumors were out there about it, but I did realize that some people would assume I had married someone named Grant. That crossed my mind when I first decided on it.”

“Well, yeah, especially for the people who read your book,” Wendy said. “We were all thinking,
What's up with this
Grant
thing?
We all thought that you were waiting to marry Victor Hinson. Then the brother went to jail and changed his name to Muhammad, right? So what was up with this Tracy Ellison
Grant?
”

I had to give Wendy one thing: she knew her shit. She had obviously read my book.

I said, “Well, that's all true, but it didn't happen like a big old fairy tale. I had to move on, but that does
not
mean that I moved
into
the closet and tried to cover it up with a name change, for all of the people out there who somehow got it twisted.”

I just could not seem to keep my mouth shut about the lesbian matter. It really bothered me. I guess because I was so
un-lesbian.

Dee Lee jumped in and said, “Well, why didn't you just use your middle name or initial? Isn't that what a lot of other Hollywood stars do?”

I said, “I thought of that, but I wasn't too fond of using my middle initial.”

Wendy took my earlier cue regarding lesbianism and ran with it like a fox who had just spotted the rabbit. “Well, let's talk about this fear of being labeled a lesbian when we come back. Because it seems like a lot of successful sisters have been called lesbians at one time or another, simply because they could not be attached to a man.”

Once I realized that I had let the cat out of the bag on the air, I felt like kicking myself in the mouth. Wendy had only mentioned it
off
of the air. Nevertheless, if the rumor was floating around that I was a lesbian, then I had to face it and have it corrected. I couldn't tiptoe around it and hope that those who believed it would know what I was referring to. That idea seemed silly. It would also seem as though I had something to hide. So I
had
to get it out in the open. There was no other way around it.

Wendy Williams had set me up perfectly. Just by bringing that crazy shit up she made me address it. I had no intentions of dealing with something like that on a popular morning show in my hometown of Philadelphia, while my parents, fans, and family members were all listening in. I felt like a damn fool! I began to feel really hot and clammy with a headache coming on. I had to compose myself and deal with it like a professional.

When we came back on the air, I said, “Wendy, you know what this is? It's all about sexism. A woman is not supposed to have her own money without a man being attached to it somewhere. Even Oprah had to bring her man Stedman all up on her show and parade him around so that everyone would know that
she had
one. You remember that?”

I decided to get the hell off of that show as smoothly as I could. I had heard that Wendy
idolized
herself some Oprah Winfrey and would just about kiss the ground that Oprah walked on.

She got excited immediately and said, “;Okay, now
that's
true. Oprah Winfrey
is
my girl and all like that, but it's not like I would bring
my
husband or boyfriend all up on my show so that people will know that I have one just to stop the rumor mills. You know what I'm saying? I've
never
had to go
that
far.”

“Then again, you've never had Oprah Winfrey's money either,” Dee Lee interjected for another laugh.

“But you
do
talk about your husband a lot on the air,” I reminded Wendy. I heard that about her as well.

Dee Lee nodded and said, “Yeah, you do.”

I don't know where the third member of the Dream Team was that morning, nor did I care. I just had to fight my way through it and still come out smelling at least
halfway
decent. By the end of my interview I had done a fairly decent job of turning Wendy back on her heels.

She said, “Well, this has really been fun. So come back real soon, Tracy, and let's do this again sometime.”

I didn't make any promises, and by the time I made it back out to my father's Infiniti that morning someone was ringing me on my cellular.

Should I even answer this?
I thought to myself. I just
knew
that it would be more bad news. Whoever it was, they had obviously just listened to the show and felt that it was urgent to talk to me directly afterwards. So I ignored it until my cellular phone rang with two more calls.

I finally answered it, about to be teed off again. “Hell-lo.”

“Tracy, this is your mother.”

“Oh, Mom.” She was calling me straight from the nursing home cafeteria where she still worked as a dietitian. I felt like apologizing to her for my attitude, but I didn't because I was sure she had something to say about the show that I may not have liked. My mother always thought that I responded with my heart too much and not with my head. She said that I was a lot like her in that way, and like far too many women who were down on their luck in life. “We have to learn to
think
more before we
do
things,” my mother told me. “That's a lesson it took me
years
to learn, and I'm
still
learning it.”

She said real calm over the phone, “Tracy, you know you did it again, right?”

I sighed and let her go on. It was no point in arguing with her. That only would have run up my cellular phone bill.

“Now you have to realize that when you decided to become an actress, you became public property for everyone to talk about you, just like when that book came out. You remember how many people were talking about
our
decisions?”

My mother would never let me forget that
Flyy Girl
exposed
her
life as well.

“Yeah, Mom, I remember.”

“Well, now you're doing it to yourself again, and if you allow yourself to get sucked into these petty games of
he say, she say,
you won't get
any
sleep at night.”

“So, what am I supposed to do, Mom, just ignore it? In my
own
home?”

“Yes. That's
exactly
what you do. Ignore it,” she argued. “People who know you know that you're not a lesbian. And those who even want to
think
that don't know you.”

“Well, have
you
heard any of those rumors?” I asked her. I was curious to see if she was already ignoring them and hadn't said anything to me about it.

“No I haven't, and don't you think that I would have
told you
something if I heard anything like that. I mean, shit, you're still my daughter, Hollywood or not.

“I wouldn't let
anyone
say that kind of thing about my daughter. Are you
crazy
?!” She sounded as pissed off about it as I was. That made me smile. I felt better about it. Mom had my back.

“And why did you tell everyone that you didn't like your middle name?” she asked me.

“I didn't say that. I said I wasn't
fond
of using my middle initial.”

“Well, what's so wrong with using Tracy Louise Ellison?”

I began to laugh as I pulled out from the parking space.

“Come on, Mom, don't start that again. ‘Louise' makes me sound like I'm fifty years old.” In my mind, all I could see was images of Mr. George Jefferson from
The Jeffersons
hollering “Weee-zaaay!”

My mom laughed with me and said, “Well, ‘Grant' doesn't sound that young, either. It reminds
me
of the Civil War, and we weren't
free
back then, you know.”

“Some
of us weren't free,” I corrected her.

“Most
of us weren't,” she argued.

I said, “Well, Mom, I don't want to keep running up this phone bill for local calls. I'll talk to you when I see you at home tonight.”

“Running up a
phone
bill,” she snapped at me. “You mean to tell me that you're making Hollywood money now and you're still concerned about some
phone bill
?”

“Mom, trust me. If you forget that you're talking on these cellular phones, your monthly bill can get up to as much as a mortgage for a house.”

She chuckled and said, “;Okay, well, I'll see you later then. And by the way, was that new silver truck outside a gift for your father's fifty-first birthday? You know he noticed it. You couldn't find a better place to hide it than that?”

I just smiled. “What made you think that?”

“Girl, I wasn't born yesterday. And your
father
wasn't born yesterday either.”

“Well, that's a long story, but I was planning on giving it to him tonight.”

My mother paused and said, “It looks nice. Now I can't wait until
my
birthday,” she added, and started laughing again.

I pouted and said, “See.”

“Aw, girl, go 'head somewhere. I don't want your money,” she told me. “All I did was raise you for half of your life before your father came back in the picture just in time to send you off for college.”

I shook my head. I didn't know what to say. My mom was playing the guilt trip on me.

“So now I'm gonna have to buy you
and
Jason a new car,” I continued to pout. How could I say no to them? They had all put up with a lot of stuff from me.

My mom said, “You don't have to buy me a new car, honey. Who do you think will be driving that new SUV that you're giving to your father? You don't know the house rules by now? What's
his
is mine and what's
mine
is mine.”

We both laughed at it.

Mom said, “Well, go 'head, girl, and save your little phone bill. I'll see you later on at the house. And Tracy?”

“Yes,” I said, smiling. She had cheered me up.

“I love you.”

I smiled even wider. “I love you too, Mom.”

When I hung up to continue with my day, I realized that I couldn't really cry about anything, because if you look at it, I had
everything
to look forward to. So I clicked on the stereo system and popped in a CD. I was curious, but I
refused
to listen to Power 99 FM for a while, because I didn't want Wendy Williams to surprise me with something else. Hell, I was back in a good damn mood, and I
planned
to remain that way!

I grew up a while back
and took off my tight jeans
and those other little, skimpy things
to liberate my body.

I put away my
old love letters
from long-gone boyfriends
to liberate my heart.

I discarded my false notions of
how young ladies should act
in male-dominated societies
to liberate my mind.

I dared to picture myself a heaven,
so that I could reach
for a better tomorrow
to liberate my soul.

And then I flew
far away
like a bird
in no cage.

Copyright © 1994 by Tracy Ellison

W
hen my airplane reached the city limits of Los Angeles the sight of the small houses with palm trees planted all around reminded me of toy houses, as if the capital city of make-believe was only make-believe itself. I could tell that it was a different kind of place, judging from the clothes that people wore on the airplane, and the many nationalities they represented. It was like a styleless and faceless nation where anything goes. Even the flight attendants seemed spirited in their blue uniforms. It made me feel that LA was a place where you could really be free and let yourself go. On the East Coast we were hindered by rigid dress codes and a more structured approach to life, where breaking the rules led to unpleasant whispers, nasty looks, and cold shoulders. However, on the plane to LA all that I could feel was warmth. I felt relaxed, like in a bubble bath, even as the plane experienced turbulence in our preparation for landing.