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    Denise had indeed used some of the tips Alison had given her during the previous week and seemed to feel they ’d been beneficial.
    They talked for a few minutes more about what things Denise could try in the upcoming week. Alison rounded out the session by asking, “And have you seen your doctor lately? Talked with him about medication?”
    “ Dr. Thompson? Yeah, he’s great, but, you know….”
    “ There’s no shame in antidepressants, Denise. I know you know that.”
    “ I do. I know. But, you know, my mother says I just need more exercise.”
    “ Of course regular activity can help with SAD, but—”
    “ Oh, wow, look at the time. I’ve got to get going. Thanks very much. I’ll see you next week?”
    “ Of course,” Alison replied, rising to walk Denise to the “out” door. She waited quietly while Denise donned her boots, parka, hat and mittens. It would have been easier for her patients to leave their outerwear in the reception area, but then they’d have to go out that way. Alison had made sure when she’d rented the office space that there were separate doors so patients didn’t run into each other.
    A good practice for any therapist, but particularly so in a small town where you were liable to see someone you knew. Whenever Alison took on a new patient, she always let them know that if she saw them out of the office it was up to the patient if they wished to acknowledge Alison or not. Almost always within the first few weeks she saw them in the aisle at Pat ’s IGA or at a hockey game.
    Finally dressed for the freezing temperatures, Denise turned to Alison, seeming to want to say something, but eventually just pulled her knit cap further down on her head. Alison reached out and settled her hand on Denise ’s arm. “Hang in there. Spring will come.”
    Denise only nodded her head, turned, and opened the outside door. The blast of arctic wind nearly felled the slight girl and Alison heard her whisper, “When?” to herself as she braved the cold and left the office.
    Alison shut the door on the wind and tidied up her office from the morning of patients. She washed out the used coffee mugs in the little kitchen off the reception area and dumped out what remained of the large pot of coffee she ’d made this morning. She checked in the fridge to make sure she had plenty of cream, and looked in the cupboard for sugar. She eyed the different cookies and crackers she kept on hand, but the idea of food didn’t appeal to her.
    She returned to the office and fluffed up the pillows on the couch, then took her tablet, digital recorder, and files from the table next to her chair to her desk. It was on the opposite side of the large room from the sitting area of couch, two large comfy chairs, and end tables. No coffee table between her and her patients. No impediment to communicating, subliminal though it may be.
    She took her time entering her notes into each patient’s file. Often replaying parts of their conversations to make sure her interpretations at the time still held true.
    Stalling. That ’s what she was doing. Plain and simple. Not wanting to leave her office for the hospital. Because even though she had absolutely zero intention of stopping by Petey’s room, she’d know he was there. And she just didn’t want to be tempted to swing by his room to see how he was doing.
    Finally, she had every note transferred to their electronic file. Then she pulled out the folders of each patient that was scheduled for her next morning. After that, she made her way to the door, put on her heavy coat, boots and gloves, and wrapped her long scarf around her neck several times.
    She told herself she was bracing for the cold like Denise had done. But as she walked out into the blustery afternoon, she knew she was bracing herself for much more.
    ***
    The blue of her bridesmaid’s dress shouldn’t have done for her skin what it did. Her dark Finn skin always looked hottest in yellows and reds. But