“I want to make you laugh that witchy laugh. And I want to be there for you when you cry. I’ll bake all your birthday cakes. I want to tell you dirty things and watch you blush. I want to see every photo you take and tell you how brilliant you are. I want to get to know your whole family. I want to hear all of your jokes. I want to spend summers at the lake with you and winters in the city. I want to run your errands, and buy you expensive soap, and pose nude for you.” I laugh. “There it is,” he says to himself. “My Alice has the best laugh.” “ ‘My Alice’?” I say, grinning. “I hope so. I want
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