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W atching Lotte cry hurts more than the time Claire called me a flea and sprayed bug spray into my eyes. A similar amount of tears are involved, too.

Mansplaining feelings is not my intention, but I need Lotte to see that she can lean on me. Even if she’s put an end date on our couple-dom, I’m not going anywhere. Not emotionally at least.

“You need to talk, Lotte. Mom always said bottling things up isn’t good for your head, or your heart. Sometimes I wonder if that’s why she got so sick. For years the stress that comes with being a single mom with two jobs, two kids - one a giant food consuming, hockey playing, money pit - was kept inside. It poisoned her, Lotte and I don’t want that to happen to you.” I expect deflection. A witty and sassy question to come my way.

“You know what prompted my switch from Psychology to Accounting, a move that brought on the wrath of … him?”

Presuming she means Carole, I reply, “No.”

I’d always wondered, but getting answers out of Lotte is like trying to catch lightning in a jar while wearing a TV antenna on your head. You’re coming back burnt and empty handed. “I gathered you liked the work at Royal Rolls and switched.”

“No. I hated working at Royal Rolls and that’s why I switched.”

I pull back to see Lotte’s face and it’s a mistake. Her eyes are red and puffy, lips swollen. Cheeks awash. Again it breaks my heart, but dammit if she doesn’t look more beautiful than ever. Drying her cheeks with my thumb, I risk digging for more. “I don’t get it.”

“The theory, the analyzing, the practical applications. I loved Psych. Loved it. But as you’d expect, its people focused. Listening to people, talking, studying. To me, the lectures, while brilliant, were equivalent to forced participation in dinner theater. And what would have happened after graduation? Clinical Neuropsychology was my dream field, but it exists to help people. To help people you have to relate and talk to people and I don’t and can’t relate or talk to people.”

“I’m a people and you’re talking to me?”

“Yes but you’re … my people.”

My people. I feel like crowing from the rooftop right about now, but I don’t. “So you chose accounting because … what? Less people?”

“Kind of. Gran had passed not long before I had an internship trial at a clinic in the city. It was a disaster. I was in the intake area and I just froze or ticced every time someone approached me. I was too intimidated to apply for any other Psych ones, but I’d met Margaret at SKISCO, and one night she suggested coming to Royal Rolls. STEM has always been my thing and I figured it was Accounting, math, analyzing data. Why not? Apart from Mr. Bowe’s occasional mumbling, and Margaret’s fussing over me, for the most part I was invisible. My first summer was spent in almost complete silence. I liked it. Switching just made sense.”

“But you hated it.”

“I did. But I felt safe.”

I scooch down the bed so my face lines up with Lotte’s. “Do you feel safe with me, Little D?”

Blinking away her tears, she nods, and I fall a little more. “I do.”

“And you trust me?” Another nod. “Then I want you to take my advice. You can’t change the past. So, just when I make a bad play, or have a shit game, you need to put it behind you and shift your focus. To do that, there’s two things we need to do, actually three. Grab a pen and take some notes, Little D. This is going to be gold.”

I’m joking, but Lotte takes it seriously and rolls away towards her bedside table. When she slides open her top drawer, I get a glimpse of frilly knickers and bras and, is that, yes, her infamous bunny ears are in there too. I almost lose my train of thought. Lotte sliding her glasses on doesn’t help.

“Okay, I’m ready, Captain. Hit me.”

I’d like to hit something but focus on the task at hand.

“Right, number one, we need to make a plan about Carole. There is no reason he needs to know that you know. We can just pretend it never happened or you can address it head on. The choice and power is yours.”

“I don’t see how that’s true, but I’ve taken it down.”

“Excellent. Number two. You need to switch back to Psych.”

“No.”

“Listen. You want a job where you can hide, I’m positive there are fields within Psych where you can. And if you went on to do Neuropsychology, you have years of study left. Who knows where you’ll be emotionally after that. Especially with Dr Too-Young helping out.”

Lotte’s nostrils flare so I expect a fib, or a that’s not possible , to fly from her mouth, but instead it’s a quiet, “And three?”

“Three is my favorite. We need to plan the biggest, the most kick ass hockey fundraiser Boston has ever seen. Marty will be swimming in cash by the time we’re done, and Green Line Ice will be the number one skate rink in the city. Now, number four—”

“Four,” Lotte’s face lights up as she giggles, expanding my heart to three times its size knowing I’ve cheered her up. “I thought there were three?”

“There was, but this one just popped into my head and overtaken three in the best idea ever stakes.” I nod toward the still open drawer. “Pop on those bunny ears of yours, and I’ll show you.”