Candy at Last

by Candy Spelling

  It took me years to get to the topic of money in therapy. I thought I had anger issues, not money issues. Then as I explored my relationship with my children, I realized we had a pattern. When I denied Tori an extravagant purchase, it resulted in radio silence.

  It was hard to watch Tori use our latest mother-daughter problem as the central story line for her reality show. I was also the cliffhanger of many episodes. Her book sTORI telling also breathed new life into my old role as Lady Macbeth.

  I am by no means saying that I am the perfect mother now or that I didn’t make mistakes when my children were growing up. In therapy I learned that I was passive-aggressive and that I also had poor communication skills. It’s true. The Spellings were a family who didn’t confront issues. There, I said it.

  There is another truth about the Spelling family. It’s probably a truth shared by countless traditional families in which there was one very ambitious or trailblazing parent. As much as Aaron loved being with our children, he was always working, and when he was home, he was very preoccupied. There were times when the kids were playing in his office while he was on the phone. He had absolutely no idea what they were up to. They could have been cutting off each other’s hair for all he knew.

  I think Aaron’s demanding work schedule and also the fact that he was a writer who logged out of reality and into his imagination left us all wanting more quality time with him. I think it set up a competitive dynamic where we all had to vie for his attention.

  Having said that, I also believe that there comes a time when you have to stop blaming your parents. I have learned from my own journey that at some point you have to take responsibility for your own actions and attitudes. I made a deliberate effort to look in the mirror and change. That’s where the real work is and where the rewards are.

  I was in Portland recently visiting my son. He is married to a wonderful woman, and they have two beautiful little girls. Randy is a lot like me, I think. He is more introverted and very sensitive. When I was up there, he brought up something I had done that had really hurt his feelings. It was a big moment for both of us. Instead of blaming me, he told me how I made him feel, and I in turn got to explain myself without feeling defensive. It was huge and I made sure to share with him how happy I was that we could have this kind of communication. I was very proud of both of us.

  A couple of years ago, I planned my first vacation since a girls’ trip I went on in about 1998. On that particular trip, I had gone to Europe with my friends Paula Meehan and Joanna Carson. We docked in St. Tropez, and while I was walking around, I saw some stunning paintings by a local artist. He was a short, little man with a handlebar mustache and this great big hat. His wife invited me to come upstairs and see the rest of his work.

  I got so caught up looking at his collection and hearing about his inspirations that before I knew it, it was eight o’clock at night. I dashed back to Paula’s yacht and explained where I had been. I told them about meeting this artist and going to his studio. Well, I suppose that was the wrong way to start the story because they immediately started teasing me about having an affair. They were picturing French actor Jean Reno when really it was more like Danny DeVito.

  It was a fabulous trip, but once Aaron got sick, we didn’t leave the city limits. Years later, once I was on my own, I finally took a leap and booked a month-long cruise to Europe, England, and Morocco. It was a milestone for me. My first trip as a single woman and the longest time I had ever been away from home. I was excited and nervous.

  But after I had booked the trip, Tori unexpectedly got pregnant with my little grandson Finn, and there were some complications that required her to be on bed rest. I did everything I could to be supportive including renting her an apartment so she could be closer to the hospital.

  Even though she was stable and in the best possible care at Cedar-Sinai, I was obviously conflicted about going on my trip. I shared my feelings with her one afternoon while I was visiting.

  “No, Mommy, I want you to go.”

  I took my daughter at her word, accepted her blessing, and went on my trip. Before I left, I promised her that at the first sign of any trouble I would jump on a plane and fly home so I could be at her side.

  Thankfully Tori and baby were fine when I returned home to the United States. She was still on bed rest, but she and the baby were both stable. She stayed there in the hospital for about sixty days, and then my youngest grandson, Finn, was delivered by c-section. I got to the hospital just after he was born, and there he was in his little bassinet with the most beautiful big full lips. In my day, newborn babies were taken to the nursery. I have say, I think it’s very cool that these days the babies are taken straight to their mothers once they are measured, cleaned up, and checked out.

  I love and adore my grandchildren, and it’s amazing to spend time with them now that they can talk. I have the same feelings for them that I did for my own children, but now I have wisdom that comes with being a grandparent. My husband and I handed everything to our children, only later to realize that pushing up your shirtsleeves and digging in your heels is character building. Aaron had a tough childhood and never wanted to see his children struggle, and neither did I.

  I think the best way to explain my perspective is to quote George Clooney’s character, Matt King, in The Descendants. At the beginning of the movie, Matt explains his family’s intergenerational wealth. Matt says that his father wanted him to have “enough money to do something but not enough to do nothing.” That pretty much sums up how I feel now.

  Randy has really turned out to be a fine young man. It was hard for him to be taken seriously since he was Aaron Spelling’s son. He has taken the road less traveled and found his way. I always knew he would. When he lived in Los Angeles, he would read to the kids at L.A.’s BEST, an afterschool enrichment program here in Los Angeles. He also came out and made Christmas ornaments with the kids one year, so it’s no surprise he is such a wonderful father and husband. I am very proud of what he has accomplished. I am proud of Tori too. She is as creative, hard working, and as entrepreneurial as her father was.

  I do worry about her, though. Tori is capable and tireless. She is a working mom with four children, a husband, several businesses, and lots of family pets. Even with help, she definitely has her hands full. Migraines run in our family, so we are prone to them. Although they are genetic, they can also be triggered by routine stress. She called me one afternoon about this when she, Dean, and the kids had just come back from vacation, and a migraine was picking up speed.

  “Tori, have you noticed that when you go away on vacation that you have the best time, but when you come back and take on so much to make up for lost time, you get a migraine?”

  “You know, Mommy, you’re right.”

  Mommy, you’re right? Mothers don’t get to hear those words very often. When we do, we should record them so we can play them as pick-me-ups for all the times when our children think we’re idiots. Is there a mother on earth who doesn’t feel as if her children sometimes treat her like she doesn’t know anything? I doubt it.

  Tori and I are a work in progress and probably always will be. I notice that the more my self-esteem expands, the less patience I have for the pursuit cycle she creates when she shuts me out. We have a pattern and until we can break that pattern hand-in-hand, this is going to be the little dance she and I do together.

  29

  Up, Up, and Away

  The rumors that I was selling The Manor began even before Aaron was buried. I hadn’t even given it a thought—it was our family home and the place Aaron most loved to be. Initially, I was annoyed by all of the speculation, and I wondered where the rumors were coming from. Usually where there is smoke there is fire, but I hadn’t spoken to any realty companies about putting the house on the market or gotten bids from any moving companies, so really there was no fire. Then I realized the buzz about The Manor’s being sold was happening for the simple reason that many women who find themselves widowed wi
th an empty nest choose to downsize.

  The Manor was definitely a different house now that it was just me. Time crept along at a languorous pace. Even the light that fell through the windows at the different times of the day was unfamiliar to me. The hallways that had once been filled with so much life, not to mention glamour, were empty. The house had gone from being our home to a monument of a previous existence.

  For the first time in the twenty-one years that we lived there, I also didn’t have a dog. Not long after Aaron passed away, my dog, Annie, died unexpectedly. It was devastating and came as a huge shock. Now there really wasn’t anything breathing life into the quiet house.

  Annie was a Wheaten terrier mix that Tori had helped me rescue years before Aaron was sick. We had driven a long a way along Southern California interstates that I didn’t know existed to the dog rescue where Annie was in boarding. I had seen her picture and read her profile on the pet adoption website and knew she was my dog. I had a very specific kind of dog in mind. I wanted one that looked like my old dog, Gracie. Gracie had been Tori’s dog first. She was also a rescue, and from what we could see or hear, she had probably been turned in for barking. Shortly after Tori got Gracie, she started having problems with her homeowner’s association because of the barking, so Gracie moved in with her grandparents. She was a wonderful dog. We loved her so much. Annie looked quite a bit like Gracie in her adoption profile picture, so I had been looking forward to bringing her home with us.

  Unfortunately, Annie had already been adopted by an older lady. After two weeks, however, the lady had called the mission back and said that the dog was lethargic and ended up returning her. The day the mission posted Annie’s photo I saw it online, quickly called, and picked her up. Rescuing dogs is a big commitment. They often come with so many emotional issues that you really have to be prepared to nurture these little souls back to emotional health. Annie blossomed at The Manor, though she was always a little anxious and never got over her fear of men.

  As much as I missed having a dog, I really didn’t have the emotional wherewithal to bring another one into my life. Running The Manor was a full-time job in itself. In between doing upkeep, I was focused on finding my way.

  About six months after Annie died, it was time to think about getting a dog. I decided to get a puppy because after all I had been through, I wanted a dog that would be around for the longest time possible. I didn’t have anything in particular in mind. I just knew I wanted a female.

  One of my girlfriends was getting a little Cockapoo puppy, so I went with her to look at them. It was out in Orange County, so we met in a parking lot somewhere and then made the drive behind the Orange Curtain. The Cockapoos were darling, but they just weren’t my kind of dog. In another part of the house they also had a couple of Wheaten terrier puppies and there was my Madison. It was love at first sight.

  I brought her home around Christmastime, and she brought so much life and energy to The Manor. She was the only dog I’ve ever had that would go outside and amuse herself for hours on her own. She would chase the birds and get into the pond, and she was always on the lookout for squirrels.

  The five years I spent alone in The Manor were long ones. One morning I woke up and it hit me. It was time to let it go. I wanted to enjoy my life, and I knew it would be difficult with the responsibility of The Manor on my hands. Some part of the house would always be screaming at me for attention.

  If arriving at the emotional place where I could make the decision to part from The Manor was difficult, the logistics of selling it was even more complex. My attorney arranged for us to meet different brokers, whose marketing plans were submitted to Linda and me for review. There were no comps in the area, so it was difficult to set an asking price. The closest thing to a comp is Suzanne Saperstein’s Fleur de Lys estate, which was only a few miles away north of Sunset Boulevard on Carolwood Drive. Inspired by the seventeenth-century Château de Vaux-le-Vicomte, Fleur de Lys was built in 2002 and has been on and off the market since 2006. Truthfully, The Manor and Fleur de Lys were apples and oranges. I figured if Fleur de Lys could command an asking price of $125 million, it was reasonable to ask $150 million for The Manor.

  With these kinds of estates, you obviously can’t hold an open house. So we relied on getting the word out through the media. Linda also came up with a very clever “150 Reasons to Buy The Manor” and I hit the talk show circuit to promote the house. I was on The Nate Berkus Show, The Wendy Williams Show, and Entertainment Tonight. I also did interviews with everyone from People magazine to the Lansing State Journal in Michigan. It really was a conundrum. Obviously somebody very high profile, not to mention solvent, was going to purchase The Manor. But if that high-profile personality wanted to fly below the radar, then The Manor was not the place for them to buy. I also wanted a clean deal and not a complicated financial transaction. I had one offer from a very viable party, but the terms included a long-term rent back, and that was not what I was interested in.

  Believe it or not, there are quite a number of celebrity “looky-loos” who are known for checking out exclusive properties even though they have no intention of buying them. To avoid this scenario, all potential buyers had to be prequalified. It didn’t matter who it was, they had to go through the paces. Jeff Hyland of Hilton & Hyland who represented The Manor explained his process to the Los Angeles Times very simply: “If they or their party were not on the Forbes list, it was very easy to decline the showing.”

  After I sold The Manor, I read a quote from one very-high-profile New York City real estate mogul who claimed to have been shown The Manor. Despite the fact that he is on the Forbes list, he didn’t qualify and he was never shown the house. In his defense, I will say that these days not even I would qualify to buy my house.

  The Manor was on the market for 850 days before it finally sold. I wasn’t at all surprised that a twenty-two-year-old British socialite was the buyer. Petra Ecclestone is an aspiring fashion designer, and The Manor was the perfect way for her to plant her flag in Los Angeles. What did come as a shock was the requirement that I had to be packed and out of The Manor in just thirty days. I was game but my conundrum was when to start dismantling The Manor given that there were contingencies that would allow the Ecclestones to drop out of the deal if there was mold, termites, or structural issues. I knew the house was in excellent condition, but I didn’t want to start taking apart my bed frame until the deal was final.

  The sand started slipping through the hourglass very quickly as soon as escrow closed. What took in essence seven years to create was being deconstructed in a month. It took three moving companies to pack up more than one hundred rooms, and I did quite a bit of the packing myself. One company was solely dedicated to packing up the attic. I had a schedule and a game plan to get us out of the house. Getting rid of things was incredibly hard for me, but I knew that it was necessary. I was moving to a condo, so I had to prioritize.

  Everything in The Manor was marked with a sticky note indicating its final destination. “A” was for Auction, “D” was for Donate, “S” was for Storage, and “C” was for condo, which meant it was coming with me. I rented a warehouse for storage and signed a lease on a temporary residence where I would live while my condo was being built. The Century had offered me a special arrangement where I could rent an apartment from them, but it made more sense to live elsewhere for now.

  I really have to give it to the movers. They cleverly placed two-foot wood strips on the stairs so that they could slide boxes from top to bottom with men posted on either side to make sure nothing slid out of control. We all worked from dawn until midnight. When I did get some sleep, I dreamt of Styrofoam peanuts, bubble wrap, tape guns, felt-tip pens, and cardboard boxes. It was the definition of controlled chaos with an emphasis on controlled.

  When I had put the house on the market in 2008, HGTV, along with some other networks including the newly launched Oprah Winfrey Network, had approached me about documenting my move in a reality miniseries
. Who would have ever thought twenty-one years before when we shot video of the grounds and of ourselves breaking ground that moving out of our home would be so public? Had he lived, Aaron never would have sold the house, but I believe he would have understood if he could have seen my singular life. Making a reality show about packing up the house and moving on was an opportunity to pay homage to the most prolific man that television had ever seen.

  We shot a sizzle reel for the show, which is a ten-minute video highlighting what the show will look like to the viewers. The sizzle reel is a key tool when you are pitching a reality show. My producer, Stuart, was beyond excited when he saw the final version of the reel. Even over the phone, I could feel his energy.

  “We really have something big here.”

  Given the market and the economy, neither one of us was in a big hurry, and we figured we would shop the reel until we found the right network. Everything was easy and stress free until the day I accepted the offer on the house. I immediately called Stuart.

  “We’re in trouble. I just sold the house and I have to be out in thirty days.”

  At the time, we were in talks with OWN, but they had just gotten up and running and couldn’t decide whether Selling Spelling Manor fit in with their programming. Since we had a new time line, Stuart pitched the sizzle reel to five other networks which were then quickly whittled down to three. Ultimately, we went forward with HGTV. Stuart and I agreed that they had a lot of integrity and the right point of view, and they remained faithful to it.

  It was a big self-worth moment for me when I was asked to be made an executive producer of the show. It’s different from scripted television in which the creators are often executive producers. As an executive producer, I would have decision-making power, and that gave me a sense of control. The network balked at my terms, but I stuck to my guns and made it a condition. I had learned to stick up for myself and negotiate on my own behalf, something I would not have been able to do just a few years ago. It was a great feeling when they agreed. We found ourselves shooting the first installment before the ink was dry on the contract.