On the nights I don’t play, Ethan and I curl up on the couch with popcorn and ice cream watching old black and white movies. Tonight, it’s Top Hat and too much mint chocolate chip. When it’s over, Ethan hits the remote on the stereo, drags me to my feet, and tries to twirl me around like Ginger Rogers.

“You’re too stiff,” he says, shaking my arm to loosen me up.

“Trying to dance like Fred Astaire to R.E.M.,” I say, shaking his arm back, “is your first problem. Second is that I’m a terrible dancer. Terrible.” I head back to the couch to sit down.

“It’s just what was in there,” Ethan says. He’s smiling, and it’s good to see him smile. His bruises are yellowed ghosts. You can only see them from certain angles. “Come on. Try. I’ll find something that fits better.”

He thumbs through his CDs, puts on Ella Fitzgerald, and offers his hand to me. I take it. He tries to teach me the foxtrot and I step all over his toes. He lets me stand on his feet until I get the steps, singing Cheek to Cheek in his best Fred Astaire voice, even though Ella is singing something completely different. He spins me out and back in and my feet start doing the right things.

“Look at you, Ginger.” He presses his cheek to mine. “You, here, makes my whole life better.”

I cry. Big fat tears rolling down my face, splashing on Ethan’s cheek. “Jerk,” I say, sniffing and laughing and wiping my face. “Why did you have to say that?”

“Because”—he sops tears from my cheeks with his sleeve—“it’s true. And I get the feeling not enough people have told you how much you matter. How amazing you are.”

“You’re the only one crazy enough to think it.”

“Possibly,” he says, but shakes his head.

“You know what?” I tell him, taking the lead, twirling him around. “Being here makes my whole life better.”

“Look at us lucky ducks,” he says.

We dance and talk and get more ice cream from the freezer. He tells me about Rodney and the little girl who never got to be theirs. I don’t tell him I already know. I’m not sure if Robert would want me to. He shows me pictures from the adoption agency. She had the sweetest apple cheeks. Her name is Luz, and Ethan says that means light. The agency promised him they found her a good home. He says it’s amazing how much you can miss someone you’ve never even met.