I leaned forward for a peek at Rebecca who was down in the galley frying crab cakes on the alcohol stove. Her black ponytail quivered as she stretched her slender body over the dinette table, balancing on one knee and a hand. Her hips tilted, her spine flexed and a shapely leg extended in counterbalance as she reached into a deep storage locker under the cushions. She retrieved a small bottle of salad dressing, reversed her stretch, turned nimbly and rose to face me.
"Dinner will be ready in about ten minutes, Ben." A twinkle of her olive- green eyes and a broad smile on her narrow face told me she was aware of being admired.
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My reality was that I loved Rebecca Levis deeply and would never let her go. I'd known that since we'd first met. That was several years ago when she was a med student and I was a Ph.D. student doing research in pharmacology. This new advocation had rescued me from a 6-year downward spiral towards the life of a boat bum. Five years my junior, Rebecca has always known what she wanted to be — a doctor. After graduating from Bryan Medical School in Miami she accepted a fellowship at George Washington University School of Medicine. This would allow her to pursue a major passion — evaluating medical treatment for developing countries. I still don't completely understand her program — that consortium arrangement between the World Health Organization, the State Department and the National Institutes of Health. But I've always understood that I love her. I completed my Ph.D. at Bryan the same month and followed her here.
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