His Last Name (18 page)

C
HAPTER
37

Adrienne

M
organ Coleman is Queen Cray. One moment, she was happy. Next, she was crying. Alexandria knew her routine. She would go into her room until Mommy got better and took her medicine. Tina makes her the food she wants, cleans, and does it all by tiptoeing around the house and walking under the radar. If Tina puts a little too much seasoning on her chicken or adds eight ice cubes instead of seven, Morgan will go off and cuss her out for days. I felt sorry for them.

On this particular day, Morgan got up yelling, saying, “Fuck my life!” because she chipped her nail and her trainer cancelled on her.

I picked up my phone immediately to find her another trainer who would come to the house. But then Alexandria came into her mother's room and ruined the day even more.

“Mom, I want to go Dad's wedding.”

And then it all made sense. Morgan was going psycho because her ex was getting married.

“You want to go to what? How dare you want to be present for that snake and dog's wedding?”

“I already told him I was coming.”

“Alexandria. Call him back right now and tell him you are not coming.”

“But Mom, I'm in the wedding. And he's on his way.”

“You really want me to go crazy, right? Do you want to push me over the edge? He left me, and now you want to do the same damn thing? Leave if you want to go.”

“Mom, I'm not leaving you,” she said.

“You are, but it is okay. He is trying to take you from me. I know he is.”

“I'm coming back. I'm going to go to the wedding and then come right back. Why do you want me to choose? Why can't I love you and him?”

“Why would you want to love a no-good motherfucker. He doesn't love you. If he loved you, he wouldn't have left your mother. He would respect your mother.”

“He has respect for you.”

“We don't need him. It's us against the world. Not just your dad. Everybody. I'm asking you not to leave me. Please.”

Her guilt trip wasn't effective on her daughter.

Alexandria huffed as she left the room. “I can't wait until I turn eighteen.”

“What did you say?” Morgan asked as she followed Alexandria down the hall.

“Nothing.”

Alexandria called her father and put the call on speaker. “Hello, Daddy. Mommy said I can't come. Sorry.”

He started saying something, but Morgan instructed her to hang up on him, and she did.

“Adrienne, call and book us a trip to Hawaii. I want five-star everything. My travel agent's number is in my phone. Alexandria, we will go shopping when we get there.”

I went downstairs and dialed the travel agent. She was so excited when I said I wanted to book a trip for Morgan Coleman. After I gave her Morgan's credit card number, I walked down the steps only to see the infamous RJ Coleman in the flesh. He was the star of some funny movies, in which he always played a nice guy. The man who was standing in front of me was angry and considerably shorter in person. I had been waiting to casually run into him and slip him my script under different circumstances, but this wasn't the time to slip him anything.

“Who are you?”

Before I could answer, Morgan came down the steps with her robe on.

“Didn't I tell you? You are not allowed in my home.”

“I pay for this shit. I'll come in if I want to. Where is my daughter, and who is this?'

“That's my assistant.”

“You don't have a job, so why do you need an assistant? And why did you tell my daughter she couldn't come to my wedding?”

“Because she is getting ready to go on vacation!” Morgan screamed. “So leave!”

“I'm here, and I'm taking my daughter with me.”

“Mom, can I please go with my dad?” Alexandria asked from the top of the steps.

“No, because he will take you around that bitch and her bastard baby.”

“Alexandria, come here, baby, come give Daddy a hug. Sorry you have to go through this.”

Alexandria ran past her mom to go and hug her father.

“You need to stop this dumb shit, Morgan. You are putting her through too much.”

“That's you. I hate your ass. I hate you. Get the hell out of my house.”

She ran down the steps and snatched her daughter away from RJ. He was pulling her in one direction, and she pulled her in another.

“Stop, Mom! Stop it,” she cried. “I love you, and I love Daddy. I'm going, Mom, but that doesn't mean I don't love you.”

“I'll bring her back on Sunday.”

Morgan ran up the stairs and began to cry. I didn't know what to say; not only had the love of her life moved on, but her daughter had accepted the woman he did it with.

Hours later all I heard my name being screamed by Morgan. I entered her room and she was slumped on the sofa. “Dial Alexandria's number. I need to check on my child. I know she really doesn't want to be at that wedding.” I dialed Alexandria's cell phone and when she answered, I placed the phone up to Morgan's ear.

“Hey, how's everything? I wanted to apologize.” She paused and then continued and said, “Is Grandmom Julia there? . . . And Uncle Fred? . . . Oh, tell them I said hello . . . So, where is everyone staying? . . . A private mansion? . . . Oh, is the wedding there, too? . . . Malibu? That's nice . . . The Bel-Air Bay Club? . . . I love you, Alexandria. Have fun. I will see you when you come home . . .” She hung up wearing a sneaky grin and immediately made another call. She put the caller on speaker and I heard a woman answer, “TMZ tips.” Morgan told the gossip site the exact locations of RJ's wedding. Then she was happy for about a minute and then began crying,

“It is not fair. He's an idiot. He's marrying that woman and when he dies, he's going to leave everything to her. And you know what happens to the first wife who was there from the beginning? We end up with nothing. That bitch will lock his own mother and father out of his house and leave my daughter penniless. That's when everyone will say I was right. That she was nothing but a gold digger. And that's what always happens. You notice that.” I looked at her tearstained face and agreed with her, and then decided it would probably be best to leave her alone with her thoughts. There was nothing I could say that would make her feel any better in that moment.

I knew Morgan was tired and had a lot on her mind, but she hadn't called my phone in a couple of hours, and that was very strange. I walked over to the main house from the guest house and it was eerily silent.

“Hey, Ms. Tina. Has Morgan been up?”

“No, do you want me to wake her?”

“Yeah, let's check on her.” I hoped she hadn't gone over the edge and swallowed an entire bottle of pills. The last thing I wanted to do was find her dead. I was scared to enter her room. Tina knocked three times and the door opened a little. I entered and shouted, “Morgan!”

“Yes?” Morgan answered. She was sitting up curling her hair and smiling.

“I knocked and you didn't answer.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. I was on the phone.”

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“You know, earlier was really difficult. It's been the worst day of my life, actually. Yeah . . . but I'm over that. You know, it is just time for me to stop living in RJ's shadow. It is time for me to declare to the world who I am. The last seventeen years I have been Mrs. RJ Coleman. I want to be Morgan Tucker again. Morgan Tucker was a motherfucker. Morgan Coleman? That bitch is weak, and well, that's why I can't be her anymore.”

“Oh, okay,” I said, nodding along with Morgan's insanity.

“So I am going to announce to the world that I am Morgan Tucker. I want to have a celebration. I have a whole list, and I'm getting a team together to help change my life and let the world see me. I am my own star. I want to have a party in honor of me changing my last name from RJ's back to my own. He can have it back. I'm going to make it on my own, and he will be so jealous.”

Of course, Morgan was delusional. I highly doubted her ex would be jealous, but I followed her directions and began to plan her name change party.

“You know, because he can have his last name back, I don't want that shit. Fuck that last name, she can have that shit.” She paused and then said, “Do you ever hear that?”

“Hear what?” I asked.

“No, leave me alone.”

I looked over at Tina she shook her head, crossed her heart, and mumbled something in Spanish.

“Who do you want to leave you alone, Morgan?”

“That voice. Don't you hear it?” She stood up and said, “Stop laughing at me. I don't care that he got married. I don't give a fuck.” Then she swung at the air.

I was scared. Morgan was crazy, but she had never talked about hearing voices before.

“Morgan, are you okay? Maybe you need to get some more rest.”

“I don't feel so good. I might have taken too much medicine. Help me get dressed. I think I want to go to the hospital. I don't feel right, like something is wrong in my head.”

I helped her put on a t-shirt, jeans, and her sneakers and then walked her to the car.

I took her to the hospital, but they transferred her to the Psychiatric Center at Century City Hospital. I signed her in and we had a seat. She was in and out of consciousness. She had to sign paperwork saying that they could discuss her medical history with me. It was a responsibility that I really didn't want.

I waited with her, and I became afraid watching all the other crazy people around us. Some were talking to themselves, others staring into space. Interestingly enough, Morgan would fit right in.

Morgan's name was called, and we were sent into a room. A male doctor came in, examined her, and questioned her about her symptoms. He told me he was going to keep her for a seventy-two-hour evaluation.

“Okay, make sure she changes into this gown and she has to remove her shoelaces.”

The moment he left the room, Morgan stood up and demanded I take her home.

“I can't take you home. The doctor wants to treat you.”

“You have to. I'm not staying here.” She paced the room. “Did you hear what he said? He said he wants to take my shoelaces. Why do they want my shoelaces? What the fuck are they going to do with my shoelaces? I got to get out of here now.”

“No, I think it is a good idea if you stay.”

“But I'm not giving them my shoelaces.”

“You have to.”

“No, I don't have to do shit. I'm leaving.”

“Morgan, you can't leave. You said your head is hurting and you're hearing voices. He's going to help with that. Just give me your shoes and I will give them back to you as soon as you get out.”

“Okay, I'll stay, but as soon as I call, come get me.”

“I will.”

C
HAPTER
38

Tiffany

H
ow many times do you have to be ignored before you get the message that the other party is not going to respond to you?
I asked myself this question as I stared down at my cell phone. Damien had yet to give up so I had no choice but to answer his call.

“What do you want?”

“Tiff. Tiffany. When are you coming home?”

“I'm not.”

“So just like that we're done? You're never coming back?”

I sighed and tried to make it as easy as possible, but there is no easy way to leave a marriage.

“No, I'm not coming back. I will send the divorce papers once I get a draft.”

“You left me, and you are going to stick me up, too? Good luck with that. I don't have any money left to give you.”

“I wasn't with you for any money, Damien. I tried to stay with you. You were cheating. You were drunk. You are depressed.”

“Funny. When I had money I could drink, cheat, and you didn't say anything to me.”

“Good-bye, Damien.”

“So, this is all my fault? Tiffany, please come home. You are my wife. I need you here. I swear I can make a comeback, but I can't do it alone. I need you. We can get through this together.”

“Oh, no, we won't. I'm not supposed to have to slave at a job. You call that taking care of me? You embarrassed me in front of the world, and you were still cheating. All of this was preventable.”

“How could I prevent an injury?” All of a sudden, I heard a weeping noise come from the other end of the call.

“Are you crying? You are a man. Men don't cry.”

“Please come back home, Tiffany. Please. It's been so hard without you.”

“No, leave me alone. Take care of yourself. Stop it! Damien, stop calling me. I want to make this as easy as possible.”

“So, that's it? I lost everything. My job, my money, and now you are going to walk out on me, too?”

I ended the call and saw my mother standing in the doorway.

“Was that Damien again?”

“Yes, it was.”

“I am very proud of you. Take the time you need, but don't allow grass to grow under your feet while getting husband number two.”

“I'm not sure I'm ready to be married again, Mother.”

“Okay, understandable. But it will be a little sad if you don't bounce right back. You are too pretty of a girl to end up a cat lady with no husband or children.”

“I will bounce right back, and I won't let myself go.”

C
HAPTER
39

Adrienne

“G
ood morning, this is Angela Ramirez, a nurse at the Psychiatric Center of Century City Hospital. You are the contact person for Morgan Coleman?”

“Yes, I am.”

“She is being released at eight and she will need to be picked up.”

I pulled my phone away from my ear to see what time it was. It was almost seven. I sleepily told her I was on my way.

I didn't know what to expect when I picked up Morgan. Who was going to come out of the seventy-two-hour hold? Would it be the nice lady, crazy lady, or just a manic mess? Better yet, maybe she invented someone new while she was in there.

When I got in front of the facility, she was already waiting for me. She jumped in, took her hoodie off, and said, “I'm so hungry. Let's get something to eat.”

I turned onto the highway and handed back her cell phone.

“Did my baby call?”

“I'm not sure,” I answered. No one had called her, but I didn't want her to have a relapse if I didn't say the right thing.

We went through the Burger King drive-thru, stopped at the Rite Aid, and got her prescription filled. Then she told me that the doctor had told her that she experienced some mental stress brought on by RJ getting married, and if she took her medicine she would be able to cope better.

Once we were home, she showered and changed her clothes. So far, she seemed like the nice, calm Morgan.

“That medicine they gave me is working. I feel a lot better. Thank you for taking me. Now I am ready to finish planning my party. Here, I want this. Look. This is who Morgan Tucker was. I want my hair done just like this. The makeup, everything.”

The picture was of a thinner, younger, happier Morgan with box braids, a cropped shirt with her abs exposed, and a smile.

“This picture is right before I met him. I want to be her again. It is more than a name-changing party. It is a reinvention party. I am going to pursue my dream as an actress. That revelation came to me when I was away.”

She handed me a folded piece of paper.

“Here, I wrote down my guest list. I want everyone to wear white and I'm going to wear a stand-out color, like gold, red, or purple, because I'm a star and there is no one else like me.”

Morgan's name change party was only weeks away. She hired a publicist named Terrance, who worked for Halle Berry in the nineties. She also hired a party planner, who hired a decorator and caterer. The party was easily costing around a hundred thousand dollars. Morgan didn't even blink. I just hoped there would be someone in attendance I could slip my script to.

We were on our way to meet her wardrobe stylist, Roosevelt, at the Shoppes at Beverly. He came from the back of his studio door, twirling, with two assistants.

“So what are you doing? What's the look you are going for, M?” She pulled out her picture and they were not impressed.

“This is okay, but I thought you wanted a fiercer look. We can put the box braids back in, but I want to reinvent you. Why don't you become my painting and let me paint you.”

“Okay.”

“I have some looks I want you to try on.” He pulled out an off-white pant suit, sheer blue dress, and a silver mini dress. Everything she tried on was hideous, but that didn't stop him and his team from applauding and screaming, “Yes, honey. Work, boo. You're giving me life.”

Morgan turned to me and asked my opinion: “Adrienne, what do you think?”

“They're okay dresses . . .”

Roosevelt looked at me with his jaw dropped, like how could I disagree with him and his staff.

“What else do you have?”

He rolled his eyes at me and said he would pull a few more things. I walked back to the dressing room. This time, he pulled a black dress with a long slit up the side, a pink halter mini, and a gray, ankle-length pant suit. She tried on the black dress and turned side to side in the mirror.”

“Do you like this one?”

“Yes, it's very feminine and elegant. Sexy but classy and it will stand out since your guests are wearing all white.”

“You think so? I guess . . .”

“Yeah.” This was my perfect opportunity to tell her that
Poetic Justice
braids weren't going to achieve the glamorous look that she wanted. “I think you should get the black dress. And I also I think you should wear your hair out and get Chike to give you curls for your reinvention party.”

“All right. Well, I can't decide which one I want. I'll just buy them all. I'll get a chance to wear all of them eventually. I mean, I am going to be walking red carpets solo now.”

When we arrived home, Alexandria was there. She ran up to Morgan, hugged her, and said, “Mommy, I missed you!”

“I missed you, too. How was the wedding?” she quizzed.

“Mom, somehow the paparazzi found out where Daddy's wedding was. Daddy was so mad. He fired all of his security team. He thinks one of them leaked the information.”

“Wow, that's a shame. How was everything else?”

“It was nice, but mostly they argued because Daddy made her sign a prenup right before the wedding. I think you are right. It might not last.”

“Well, hopefully it will.” Morgan cracked a grin at me, and I just turned my head.

* * *

The day had arrived, and everything was in order for Morgan's party. The setting was perfect by the pool. Her vision had come together. The DJ was spinning old-school and current hip-hop and the table across from him was an assortment of Asian cuisine. Long tables were set for her guests. The tables were adorned with white tablecloths and mirror tops with cascading light pink and hot pink flowers.

Everyone was in all white, so when Morgan entered the party, she truly made an entrance: a drama queen in a pink halter dress. Her hair and makeup were on point and she looked stunning as she worked the room by double kissing and air kissing her guests. I saw her take two drinks in fifteen minutes. I was concerned, but I didn't want to say anything. She had been taking her medicine and it had been working well.

The party was filled with a bunch of D-list celebrities and their lesser-known friends. We used every contact she had left. They mostly were people who were hoping their picture would end up on a blog.

After all her guests had arrived, Morgan stood in front of the pool with a lit candle and a big picture of her and RJ. She grabbed the microphone and gave a speech. “Thank you all for coming. A lot of you know me as being the wife of a certain person who will remain nameless, but I wanted to let you all know she is gone. No more Mrs. Coleman. Tonight I am going home. I'm Morgan Tucker, motherfuckers,” she screamed, then set her wedding picture on fire. She looked like a madwoman in front of the flame. Then she threw the picture into the pool. Everyone applauded and she worked the room some more.

She ran over to me excitedly and whispered, “He's here. Oh, my God. He came. That's Warren Michael Joseph. Terrance invited him, but I didn't think he would show up. How do I look?” She pointed to a handsome man with an athletic build in a nice fitted white suit.

“You look fine. Who is he?”

“He's my future costar and hopefully husband number two. He is retired from the NFL and in the new movie with Gabrielle Union,
Crossing Hearts
. Go up to him and tell him I want to meet him.”

I walked over to the handsome brown-skinned man wearing a tailored suit and illuminating smile. “Hi, I'm Morgan Coleman—I mean, Morgan Tucker's assistant. She would like to meet you and asked if you would be able to meet to discuss her acting.”

“Give her my card and tell her to call me. I might know of a role that she can audition for.”

I took his card and instantly knew that I would be contacting him, too.

I took his information down and then gave his card to Morgan and told her he said to call him.

I wasn't sure how successful Morgan's name change party would be. She was hoping that it would tell the world she was Morgan Tucker. In actuality, I don't think anyone really cared.