Phoebe Cates starred in many movies, such as “Gremlins” and “Drop Dead Fred,” but she is best known for her famous pool scene in “Fast Times at Ridgemont High” from 1982.
However, Phoebe Cates left Hollywood more than 20 years ago. Nowadays, she has a regular job that she really enjoys.
Phoebe Belle Cates was born on July 16, 1963, in New York City. When she was a young girl, she went to private schools and studied ballet at Juilliard.
Acting was a big part of Phoebe’s family. Her father, Joe Cates, was a producer and director, her uncle was the president of the Director’s Guild, her brother used to be an actor, and her sister, Valerie, worked in theater.
Phoebe wanted to be a dancer when she was younger, but she had to stop after a knee injury.
At 14, Phoebe Cates started modeling and did pretty well. She was even on the cover of Seventeen magazine four times. But she didn’t really enjoy it and wanted to try something new.
“It was just the same thing, over and over. After a while, I did it solely for the money,” Phoebe said about her short modeling career.
One night, at a party at New York’s famous Studio 54, she met her film agent. After that, she trained with Robert Ravan, who founded The Actors’ Circle in New York.
“I just knew that I didn’t want to go to college. I thought if I could get a few movie roles, it would be a great way to avoid college. Seriously, it’s true,” Phoebe told The Daily Item in 1985.
Phoebe also trained with Alice Spivack at the H.B. Studios. She made her acting debut in 1982, playing Sarah in “Paradise.” Less than a year later, she starred in “Experienced” and then “Fast Times at Ridgemont High,” which featured the famous swimming pool scene.
“Fast Times at Ridgemont High” was a big hit with teenagers and became an important part of pop culture. It’s especially famous for one scene that Rolling Stone magazine called “the most memorable bikini-drop in cinema history.”
As a friend of mine said, that scene made a lot of teenage boys’ hearts beat faster than they should have!
In 1982, Phoebe shared her thoughts on acting. “In this business, if a girl wants a career, she has to be willing to strip. If you’ve got a good body, then why not show it?” she said.
“Fast Times at Ridgemont High” had an impressive cast, including future stars like Sean Penn, Jennifer Jason Leigh, Eric Stoltz, and Forest Whitaker.
Jennifer Jason Leigh reflected on the film, saying, “Well, it was a funny thing because we were all so young when we made it. Then it came out and was this big hit. You’d go to the theater, and people would say the lines along with it. People had obviously seen the movie over and over again,” she told The Daily News.
Later on, Phoebe continued working in theater and starred in “Private School” as Christine Ramsey in 1983. She also co-starred in Steven Spielberg’s “Gremlins” in 1984.
Phoebe met Kevin Kline, a well-known theater actor, while auditioning for the 1983 film “The Big Chill.” Although she didn’t get the role, she did meet her future husband.
Kevin was 16 years older than Phoebe, but they didn’t start dating until two years after they first met. Kevin hired Phoebe’s former assistant and asked for help to ask Phoebe out.
In 1989, Phoebe Cates and Kevin Kline got married in New York City when she was 25 and he was 41. They had their first child, Owen Joseph, in 1991 and their daughter, Greta Simone, in 1994.
By 2017, the couple had been married for 27 years, and many people wondered how they stayed so happy together for so long. “We take care of the marriage,” Kline said.
Although Phoebe was successful, she decided to step away from acting after having their children. In the 1990s, she gradually left the entertainment industry.
In 1998, Phoebe told Playboy that she and her husband had agreed to alternate their acting jobs so that their children would always have one parent at home.
Kevin Kline mentioned that even when it was Phoebe Cates’ turn to work, she often chose to stay home with their children. Although she did some acting occasionally, she was more often seen with her husband at red-carpet events, as he continued acting regularly.
In 2005, Phoebe opened a store called Blue Tree near Carnegie Hall. The store sells fragrances, clothing, and gifts.
Phoebe dedicated herself to running the store full-time, often working there personally or searching for new products to sell. Today, you can visit her store at 1283 Madison Avenue in New York City, located on Manhattan’s Upper East Side, where she also lives.
And just so you know, Phoebe still looks amazing!
What do you think of when you hear Phoebe Cates’ name? I always thought she was a pretty good actress, but the first things that come to mind are her shower scene in the cave in “Paradise” and the bikini scene in “Fast Times at Ridgemont High.”
After My Brother’s Funeral, His Widow Gave Me a Letter – I Wasn’t Ready for What He’d Confessed
At my brother’s funeral, I expected sorrow and silence, not a sealed letter that would turn my world upside down. What he confessed inside rewrote everything I thought I knew about my family.
The sky was gray the morning of my brother’s funeral. The kind of gray that seeps into your bones. Cold, quiet, still.
A gloomy day at a cemetery | Source: Pexels
I stood beside my parents near the front of the small chapel. My black coat felt too tight. My shoes pinched. But I didn’t care. None of that mattered. What mattered was that Eric was gone.
People filled the seats. Some cried. Some just stared ahead. My mother sat stiff, clutching a tissue she never used. Her eyes stayed dry.
“Are you okay, Mom?” I whispered.
People at a funeral service | Source: Pexels
She nodded but didn’t look at me. “Fine, Lily. Just tired.”
She wasn’t fine. She was strange. Distant.
My dad leaned toward a cousin in the second row, whispering something I couldn’t hear. When he noticed me watching, he turned away fast.
Something felt off. Not just sadness. Something else.
A woman standing near a coffin | Source: Pexels
I kept catching them looking at me. My mom. My dad. And then looking away like they were guilty.
Eric’s widow, Laura, sat alone a few rows ahead. Her shoulders shook as she wiped her face. Real tears. Real pain. She didn’t fake it.
When the service ended, people left in twos and threes. Some hugged me. Some said nothing. I barely noticed.
A young woman at a funeral | Source: Pexels
Outside, the wind picked up. I stood by a tree near the parking lot, just needing air.
That’s when I saw Laura, walking toward me with something in her hands.
“Lily,” she said. Her voice cracked. “I need to give you this.”
“What is it?”
A woman holding a letter | Source: Midjourney
She held out an envelope. My name was written on the front in Eric’s handwriting.
“He asked me to give it to you. After.”
I stared at it. “After what?”
She looked away. “After everything.”
Two women talking at a funeral | Source: Midjourney
I took it with shaking hands. The envelope felt heavier than paper should.
“Did he… say anything else?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No. Just that it was important.”
I didn’t open it right away. I didn’t want to. Not yet.
A sealed letter on a table | Source: Pexels
I drove home in silence. I sat in the car for a while, staring at the envelope in my lap. My name looked strange in his writing. Like he was still here. Like he’d speak if I opened it.
But I didn’t. Not yet. My mind went back. To him. To us.
Eric was never the warm kind. No hugs. No late-night talks. He never called just to say hi.
A serious man looking at the camera | Source: Pexels
But he always showed up. He came to my high school graduation. Sat in the front row, silent, hands folded.
When I was in the hospital with the flu at sixteen, he was there. Just sitting. Didn’t say much. But didn’t leave.
He was like a shadow. Always around. Never close.
Sometimes, when I looked at him, I felt something more. Like there was something he wanted to say but never did.
A serious man looking to his side | Source: Pexels
He’d glance at me, open his mouth, then close it again. Now he never would.
I walked into my house, sat at the kitchen table, and stared at the envelope one more time. Then I broke the seal.
The paper inside the envelope was folded once. It smelled faintly like him—old books and cologne. My hands shook as I opened it.
A woman opening a letter | Source: Pexels
My dearest Lily,
There’s no easy way to write this. I’ve started and stopped this letter more times than I can count. If you’re reading it, then I never found the courage to say this to your face. I’m sorry for that.
Lily… I’m not just your brother. I’m your father.
I stared at the words. My heart dropped. My stomach twisted.
A shocked woman reading a letter | Source: Pexels
I was fifteen. Young. Stupid. I fell in love with someone who got scared when she found out she was pregnant. She wanted to leave, to run. My parents stepped in. They said they’d raise you as their own—and that I could be your brother. It was supposed to protect you.
But I never stopped being your dad. Not for a single day.
Tears blurred the words. I wiped them away with the sleeve of my sweater.
A man writing a letter | Source: Pexels
I wanted to tell you every time you smiled. Every birthday. Every school play. I wanted to say, ‘That’s my girl.’ But I didn’t. Because I was a boy pretending to be someone I wasn’t.
So I watched you grow from the side. I showed up when I could. I stayed close, but never too close. That was the deal. And the older you got, the harder it got.
A woman reading a letter | Source: Midjourney
I’m sorry I didn’t fight harder. I’m sorry I wasn’t brave. You deserved more than silence. You deserved the truth.
I love you, Lily. Always.
Love, Dad
The word Dad hit me like a wave.
A shocked woman looking at a letter | Source: Pexels
I dropped the letter and pressed my hands over my mouth. I couldn’t breathe. I cried right there at the kitchen table. Ugly, loud sobs. My chest ached. My whole life had shifted in the space of one page.
That night, I didn’t sleep.
The next morning, I drove to Laura’s house. She opened the door slowly. Her eyes were red, like mine.
A grieving woman opening the door of her house | Source: Midjourney
“You read it,” she whispered.
I nodded.
“Can I come in?”
She stepped aside. We sat in her living room in silence.
A sad woman sitting in her chair | Source: Pexels
“I didn’t know until after we got married,” she finally said. “He told me one night after a bad dream. He was shaking. I asked what was wrong, and he told me everything.”
I looked at her. “Why didn’t he ever tell me?”
Laura swallowed hard. “He wanted to. So many times. But he was scared. Scared it would break your heart. Scared you’d hate him.”
An upset woman looking down | Source: Pexels
I rubbed my hands together. “It makes sense now. All of it. The distance. The quiet way he loved me. It always felt like something was being held back.”
“He loved you more than anything, Lily. That letter tore him apart. But he made me promise—if anything ever happened to him, I had to give it to you.”
“I didn’t know him,” I whispered. “Not really.”
One woman comforting the other one | Source: Pexels
Laura reached for my hand. “You did. You just didn’t know why he was the way he was.”
I nodded slowly. A tear rolled down my cheek, but I didn’t wipe it away.
“I wish he’d told me sooner.”
“So did he.”
A crying woman looking at the camera | Source: Pexels
We sat quietly again. Nothing more needed to be said. But I knew what I had to do next.
I parked outside the house I grew up in. It looked the same. White shutters, neat yard, small porch. But it felt different now—like a place built on secrets.
I rang the bell. My mom opened the door, her smile ready. It dropped the second she saw my face.
A serious woman standing on the porch | Source: Midjourney
“Lily?”
“We need to talk.”
She stepped back without a word.
My dad was in the kitchen, sipping coffee. He looked up, startled.
“Hey, sweetheart—”
A mature man drinking coffee | Source: Pexels
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I said, my voice sharper than I meant. “Why did you lie to me my whole life?”
They exchanged a look. My mom sat down. Her hands trembled.
“We didn’t lie,” she said softly. “We were trying to protect you.”
“From what? From the truth? From my own father?”
A sad mature woman | Source: Pexels
“You were a baby,” my dad said. “We thought it would be easier. Simpler.”
“For who? Me? Or you?”
My mom’s eyes filled. “We didn’t want you to feel different. Or confused. Eric was so young. He wasn’t ready.”
“He was ready,” I snapped. “He showed up for me in ways you didn’t even notice. He was there. Always. But I never got to call him Dad. Not once.”
A shouting young woman | Source: Pexels
My mother stood and tried to touch my arm. I stepped back.
“Don’t,” I said. “Please.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “We were scared.”
I nodded slowly. “Well, now I’m the one who’s scared. Because I don’t know who I am anymore. And I don’t know how to forgive you.”
A crying woman wiping her nose | Source: Pexels
My father set his mug down like it weighed too much. “Take all the time you need. We’ll be here.”
“I need space,” I said. “That’s all I can ask for right now.”
They didn’t argue. My mom wiped her eyes. My dad just nodded.
I walked out, the letter pressed to my chest like it was the only thing keeping me standing.
A woman walking out clutching a letter to her chest | Source: Midjourney
That night, I sat alone in my apartment, the letter open on the table again. I read it slowly, tracing the lines with my finger.
The pain was still there. But something else was too. Peace. A beginning.
I found a small frame in the back of my closet. I placed the letter inside and set it on my bookshelf.
Right in the center. Where I could see it every day.
A framed letter on a sunlit bookshelf | Source: Midjourney
He was my father. And now, I finally know.
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