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was Nowhere’s Land. Phoebe recalled her childhood…
     
    Seth Davis, everyone called him Lefty, his wife, Adele, and their four children, lived in Bensonhurst, the Italian-Jewish section of Brooklyn best known as the setting for Jackie Gleason’s The Honeymooners. To hear Lefty talk about this area and its crushed-together row homes, it was paradise.
    Phoebe was the youngest , with three older brothers. She was thirteen the night Lefty came home and said, “We’re moving to San Francisco.”
    To the Davis family, provincial New Yorkers, he might as well have told them that they were moving to the moon.
    Adele spent the first seven years of Phoebe’s life trying to make her what she’d never be , a perfect little girl.
    “You should hear the mouth on that girl,” Adele complained to Lefty after dinner. “I’m embarrassed to repeat the words she used in front of old Mrs. Zimmerman.”
    “I’ll talk to her,” Lefty said, “for the thousandth time.”
    While in most ways, Phoebe was vintage Tomboy, she remained Daddy’s little girl, and worked it to perfection.
    She read well at age three, and found school boring. When her teachers and the principal suggested that Phoebe might benefit from an evaluation for ADD or ADHD, Lefty told them in no uncertain terms what he thought of a system more committed to order than to education.
    When Phoebe hit her terrible teens , and discovered boys, Adele wondered if they’d accept a Jewish girl into a nunnery. In spite of her often obnoxious behavior and know-it-all attitude, she excelled in high school, and became an honor student and a National Merit Scholar.
    During her junior year, Phoebe set out to lose her virginity. She chose Ronnie Hartwell, the senior class president , and a certified jock.
    Afterward she had said, “Thanks, Ronnie, that was great.”
    “Great?”
    “Yes, it was fun. I needed to get rid of the pressure to maintain my virginity.” She hesitated, smiled, and then said, “And, I enjoyed seeing an intact one.”
    “Intact what?”
    “You know. Your thing…your dick…your cock.”
    When he reddened, Phoebe burst out in laughter. “It’s a bit late for the bashful routine, don’t you think?”
     
    Once her parents recognized Phoebe’s intelligence, and that she could do whatever she wanted, Lefty lobbied for her to train in computer science, and Adele wanted her to teach, careers that they both loved. Phoebe identified with the bright and independent health care professionals on ER and other prime time medical dramas. She thought of becoming a physician, but opted instead on a more hands-on approach to helping people, nursing.
     
    If there was such a thing as an east coast personality, Phoebe had it. She was smart, painfully honest, and often abrasive. At first, Phoebe’s caustic wit and biting comments offended Lisa, but she soon came to see her new friend as a prickly pear, spiny outside, but soft and sweet at the core.
    Lisa dated freshmen and sophomores, but discovered more of an affinity for upperclassmen and graduate students. Her one long-term relationship, four months, was with Harvey Stern, a neurology resident at the hospital.
    “I don’t know what you see in that guy,” Phoebe said , “he’s a putz.”
    “A putz?” Lisa asked.
    “You know, a schmuck.”
    “Well , Phoebe,” Lisa,” said, “in spite of your charming characterization, I like him.”
    Harvey Stern was , in all ways, the polar opposite of Lisa’s father. He was easygoing, considerate, and entertaining.
    “Does he turn you on?” Phoebe asked . “Do you have trouble keeping your hands off the man? If not, then you’re wasting your time, sweetie.”
    Lisa knew that life was unlikely to imitate her favorite romance novels, but as much as she tried, she saw that Phoebe knew her better than she knew herself. This relationship with the bland Harvey Stern would never give Lisa what she needed the most, passion.
     
    Lisa and Phoebe filled their free time with