"Reasonable Doubts'. It had Marlee Matlin as a deaf Lawyer. And Mark

Harmon as her translator." She grinned. "Of course, I might have been a little bit influenced by Mr. Harmon. I thought he was hot as hell. That was before I met your father, of course," she said piously, but her eyes held a wicked twinkle.

“And there were movies, too. ‘A Few Good Men,‘ and ‘Presumed Innocent.

And I loved ‘Amistad.' The movie about slave-trading that Spielberg directed. I wanted, just once, to give the sort of...of thundering speech you saw in those movies. Something that would be remembered."

She broke off as she saw a grin flit across her son's face. "What's so funny?"

“Nothing,” he said, pressing his lips tight.

“So why do you ask?" She paused as a thought struck her. "Is this about acting?"

“A bit," he said. He stretched his long legs out in front of him, his bare feet crossed at the ankle. "I just wish there was some magic way you could know if what you want to do is the right thing for you to do."

Rachel smiled fondly at her son. "There's no way to be certain. Your father and I were Lucky. We both chose fields we've been successful in.

But I know people I went to Law school with who burned out in a few years. Most of them are happy at what they do now.

“Nothing is permanent, Alex," she said, unbending slightly.

“You know

I'm not a huge fan of this acting business. It's risky. And you and I and your father are going to talk about it when he gets here on Friday.

“But nothing in life that is worth doing is without risk," she continued.

“Sure, with my connections I could help you find a safe little job somewhere. But would you respect yourself when you knew you had your job only due to whose son you were? Probably not."

“It's not that. I know what I want to do. I just...I don't know if I'UL be good enough to do it. I mean, to be such a pain in the ass, to push so hard for this career, then fail? What if I turn out to be a crappy actor? Or... or not good-looking enough to get good roles?"

This is your fault, she thought guiltily. If you had spent half as much time building him up as you did undermining his confidence, he wouldn't be so fragile right now. You better make it right.

“No son of mine," Rachel said severely, “or you father, for that matter, will ever have to worry about being handsome enough to be an actor. So let's not have any of that nonsense." She Laughed as Alex smiled sheepishly.

“So you don't look Like Tom Hardy or Orlando Bloom or Matt Damon. So what? Not many people do. And there are hundreds of actors who make good Livings without being conventionally attractive.

What about Billy Bob Thornton? Or Steve Buscemi? Or John Turturro?"