Dear Cary - Dyan Cannon [0]
My Life with Cary Grant
Dyan Cannon
Dedication
For Lily,
who showed me the miracle of Love.
May everyone experience it.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter One
When in Rome
Chapter Two
Back to Earth
Chapter Three
Lunch, Not Marriage
Chapter Four
Have Girlfriend, Will Travel
Chapter Five
Riding High
Chapter Six
Table for Two
Chapter Seven
Fork in the Road
Chapter Eight
Nobody’s Perfect
Chapter Nine
Enamored
Chapter Ten
Time Flies
Chapter Eleven
Discovered
Chapter Twelve
Getting to Know You
Chapter Thirteen
Oneness
Chapter Fourteen
Game Time
Chapter Fifteen
Coming Up Short
Chapter Sixteen
Long-Distance Love
Chapter Seventeen
The Middle Finger
Chapter Eighteen
The Dismantling Effect
Chapter Nineteen
The Big Sting
Chapter Twenty
A Coke and a Kiss
Chapter Twenty-one
Happy New Year
Chapter Twenty-two
Emergencies
Chapter Twenty-three
Hormones and Hamburgers
Chapter Twenty-four
Honeymoon Getaway
Chapter Twenty-five
Pressure Cooker
Chapter Twenty-six
Culinary Capers
Chapter Twenty-seven
Completion
Chapter Twenty-eight
The Big Freeze
Chapter Twenty-nine
Husbands and Wives
Chapter Thirty
Shrinking
Chapter Thirty-one
Tripping and Zipping
Chapter Thirty-two
Standoff
Chapter Thirty-three
Breaking Points
Chapter Thirty-four
Time Out
Chapter Thirty-five
Grant vs. Grant
Chapter Thirty-six
Zoo Time
Chapter Thirty-seven
Breakthrough
Chapter Thirty-eight
Liberation Day
Dear Cary
Author's Note
Acknowledgments
Photo Section
About the Author
Credits
Copyright
About the Publisher
CHAPTER ONE
When in Rome
“Cary who?” I said. I was sure I’d heard wrong.
“Cary Grant.”
“Cary Grant the actor?”
“No, Cary Grant the rodeo clown. Yes, silly, it’s Cary Grant the actor.”
“What does he want?” I asked.
Addie Gould heaved a theatrical sigh that could’ve carried from Los Angeles to Rome, even without the phone. This was back in the days when your agent could be your trusted friend, or vice versa, and for me, Addie was both. She had my best interests in mind personally and professionally. At that moment, Addie was firmly planted in the realm of wheels and deals while I was hovering in a pink cloud over Rome like a dove in a Renaissance painting. She must have felt like she was talking to a rather simple-minded child. Cary Grant had asked to meet me. He was Cary Grant, and if he wanted to meet you, you didn’t ask questions—especially if you were a young actress trying to work your way up in Hollywood.
I wasn’t really as flighty or as indifferent as my words might suggest, though. It was just that at that moment, I wasn’t going to leave Rome for anything less than a guaranteed part, and a good one. In Hollywood, “meet-and-greets” are a fact of life. There’s nothing wrong with them, and they’re important for keeping yourself on the radar, but they don’t necessarily lead to anything substantial. I was having the time of my life, and if somebody wanted me to interrupt it, I wanted name, rank, and serial number.
“Dyan, it’s Cary Grant. It’s about a part in a movie.”
“What’s the movie?”
“It doesn’t matter. When Mr. Grant requests a meeting, we hurry home.”
“Is he paying my way?” I asked, sticking to my guns.
Maybe another person would have rushed to the airport and boarded the next flight to Los Angeles, or maybe not. It was autumn of 1961. I was in my early twenties. I was in Rome right when Fellini’s La Dolce Vita had cast Rome as the most glamorous place on earth. I was living a fairy tale, and Cary Grant was just another knight of the realm who could take a number and wait his turn.
Addie persisted. I dug in my heels. “We are talking about Cary Grant,” she said.
“I know who Cary Grant is,” I replied. We were talking about Cary Grant the movie star, the matinee idol, the greatest leading man of the day. Yes, that Cary Grant.
The word “icon” has been hopelessly devalued over the years, but Cary Grant was exactly that and more. More than an actor, really. Cary Grant was