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Stephen Stills, and then take her to lunch at the Brown Derby. A sad spot was the call from Tatum. She’s fought with her mother again. I listen to her story and know it’s beyond me. I turn to Farrah for help.
    F arrah’s visibility is on the rise. She’s shot another cover for
Vogue
, is completing the last of her
Charlie’s Angels
appearances, which she’ll be talking about with Barbara Walters, and she’s beginning to get some interesting made-for-TV movie offers. Meanwhile, my career is in a slump. The follow-up films after
Paper Moon
, including the entertaining comedy
The Main Event
, with Ms. Barbra, did nothing to bolster the industry’s respect for my acting. But the great lost opportunity was
The Champ
. A huge success, it made Ricky Schroder a star and revitalized Jon Voight’scareer. That could have been Griffin and me. I was cast as the father, Griffin was promised the son’s role, but the studio changed its mind about him so I walked. I was proud of how my son dealt with such a severe disappointment. He took it much better than I did.
    And now I’m reading the script for
The Hand
, and Sue Mengers is convinced I’ll get an offer. I’ve also been given the script for
The Thornbirds
. In the end, I won’t get either role. Michael Caine will be cast as the lead in
The Hand
, and
The Thornbirds
, instead of being a film, will be turned into a television miniseries starring Richard Chamberlain. I want to work, but the offers aren’t coming. I find myself increasingly interested in Farrah’s career, which is at a turning point. She wants to extend herself but doesn’t know what form it should take. This is where I see an opportunity. If I can’t help myself, maybe I can help Farrah by bolstering her confidence. She doesn’t realize what her gifts are, thinks they’re just her hair and smile.
    I’ve come to believe that a lot of love is about admiration. Farrah has some acting licks. For one thing, she can read a scene and own it, just read it once and know the lines word perfect. All she needs now is the chance to play a role that has nothing to do with beauty. The opportunity arrives that spring of 1980 with a made-for-TV movie called
Murder in Texas
. This is a true story about a doctor with a mistress who loses interest in his wife and slowly poisons her to death—the wife, not the mistress. We pull Farrah’s hairback into a ponytail. She has these tiny ears that are adorable; they’re endearing. We downplay her makeup and wardrobe, and voilà, the actress emerges. She’s brilliant in this part, so believable. It would mark the beginning of many similar successes. I enjoy coaching her, helping her run lines and hone her craft. I’ve surprised myself.
    This was the love I had not known before. I had known the kind of love that children have for their parents, but that’s expected; this was very different. Since my marriages, I’d practiced serial monogamy. I liked smart, unpredictable women, such as Anjelica Huston, but I never fell in love and I had no intention of getting married again. Farrah and I enhanced each other in ways I’d never experienced. I grew up a Catholic, but I had fallen away. I had two ex-wives when I met her. You’re not supposed to get divorced in the Catholic Church and I did it twice. I didn’t have a parish; I didn’t have a priest whom I could speak with. Farrah wasn’t lapsed. I started going to Mass again because I could accompany her. We’d get dressed in our Sunday clothes and go to Mass together every week.
    It’s the spring of 1980 and for me a season of endings and beginnings. Farrah’s divorce from Lee enters its final stages. She has to buy him out of the house, but at least he’s gone. He knew the marriage was over and eventually allowed their uncoupling to be largely amicable. And Farrah and I are free. We’re launched. I’ve won Farrah. I’ve lost my daughter. It’s as if Tatum has moved to a very strict boardingschool that doesn’t