A/N: Thank yous to Team Spiderward for all you do and to a special pre-reader for this chapter, Teamrob2. xx
Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. The NHL owns anything that sounds familiar. I'm here having fun.
/ /\ (oo) /\ \
Chapter 52
With pregame activities complete at the United Center in Chicago on Thursday night, I glance around the packed arena. It's a sea of black and red with a sold-out crowd in attendance tonight. After making final adjustments to the straps on my mask, I slide it in place and focus on my plan for the night—being the biggest spoiler in the building. Mentally tuning out the loud music, the cheers and chants from almost twenty-thousand fans become background noise to my ears.
As the starters gather at center ice, I move into position in front of my net, then nod to the ref I'm ready when he points in my direction. Once he drops the puck, we're underway with Marcus winning the face-off. Despite great chances at the other end of the ice, Chicago is on the power play due to a cross-checking penalty against Caius, putting our penalty kill unit on the ice first.
Even though Demir blocks a hard slap shot with his body, he plays on until we can clear the puck to the other end, giving him an opportunity to get off the ice with a shift change. I glance toward the bench, watching as he grimaces in pain with one of our medical trainers leaning close and speaking with him. Demir nods at whatever is being said and it looks as if he will be okay.
I continue to deflect or save every shot from the Blackhawks, eventually killing off Caius's penalty. Late in the period, we're on a power play due to a tripping call, but we're unable to capitalize on the advantage, leaving us scoreless at the first intermission.
When Chicago is called for slashing early in the second period, Marcus is relentless around the net, hoping for a redirect during our power play and trying to find some way past their netminder. Unfortunately, Chicago's goaltender shuts us down despite plenty of traffic in front of him. With about six minutes left in the period, James is called for a questionable interference penalty, putting our penalty kill unit on the ice once again. After Chicago turns over the puck in neutral ice, Tyler has an opportunity for a shorthanded goal, but it's stopped, and we end the period still scoreless.
Once we're back on ice for the final twenty minutes, my teammates continue to grind it out: blocking shots, winning face-offs, and delivering heavy hits, but no goals. On a takeaway at center ice, we rapidly shift the puck around the zone until an opportunity emerges, and Tyler scores with a one-timer, breaking our stalemate. Chicago's pressure never relents with pucks bouncing off my crossbar and posts, but I continue to defend our goal, leaving no second-chance opportunities.
When the final horn blares, the scoreboard confirms our one-zero win, and I smile as James nabs the puck to mark my forty-second career shutout. He's last in line offering his congratulations, putting the puck in my glove. As we skate off the ice together, I'm ready to complete our post-game workouts and return home to celebrate the milestone with my wife.
Gathering in the locker room, we listen while Coach expresses his happiness with tonight's effort, especially in net. Lou addresses the room next, sharing that Chicago's goaltender is the first star of the game with twenty-nine saves, while I'm the second with thirty-four saves, and Tyler the third with his game winning goal. The room erupts with shouts and applause at our victory.
As everyone departs, Tyler and I are asked to speak with the media along with Coach, and I agree to go first. Using a towel to wipe away the sweat dripping down my forehead, I stand ready to field their questions, as the television camera's lights shine brightly.
"Edward, congratulations on achieving your forty-second career shutout. Share with us what you saw from your end of the ice tonight," a reporter requests.
"Um, yeah." I sigh. "It was a great game. As goaltenders, this is the type of game we like to see. I'd like to thank the crossbar and posts for their contributions to my efforts." Everyone laughs. "Our defense was stellar while I was constantly under attack with plenty to do all night. They kept me busy."
"Could you feel you were on your way to a shutout?" someone from the side asks.
"Toward the second half of the third period, I think the reality of the situation settled into our bench and everyone stopped talking to me during the television timeouts." I chuckle. "Even Big Ben, and he's been here many times before. I believe he has two this season. The team effort to protect our one-goal lead was felt by everyone. I couldn't ask for more from these guys."
"The effort tonight—are we watching playoff hockey from this team before the regular season ends?" another reporter asks.
I nod. "We stayed out of the box late in the game and that hasn't always been the case for us. Everyone stepped up by winning face-offs, finishing hits, and blocking shots. That's where we'll win close games like this one tonight. It's our kind of hockey."
"With an eye on the playoffs, how close are you watching the standings?"
"That's not my job." I smile, as if I'm going to admit to pouring over them each night. "We'll take the remaining games one at a time. Where we finish is where we finish. I'm glad that with tonight's win we are able to add two points to our total. That's the important takeaway from this game."
"Thanks for the time, Edward."
"Sure."
At the opportunity to end my part of the post-game interviews, I nod and slip from the room, determined to finish my post-game workout and shower in record time.
I couldn't ask for a better outcome for the night. The win and a shutout—plus, two more points to our total in the standings. Once we're on the plane, it gets even better. Checking my phone, I find a bunch of texts, but it's the ones from my wife, sharing her excitement that puts a permanent smile on my face.
CONGRATULATIONS!
YOU DID IT! A SHUTOUT!
THAT WAS INCREDIBLE!
I'M SO PROUD OF YOU!
AND YOU'RE A STAR OF THE GAME TOO!
The next text box is a mix of black and green heart emojis with an occasional gold star.
I LOVE YOU!
She includes kissing, heart-eyed, and star-eyed emojis with that text. Some of her excitement dwindles with her next message, as it's no longer in all caps.
We have another puck for
the display in your office!
Number 42! WOW!
I type out a response, hoping she's in bed by now and sleeping. It's early Friday morning, which means Bella will be handling their patient load on her own later today. Maybe I'll stop by her office after our morning skate, and we can share lunch together.
Thank you, beautiful.
We'll be home in a few hours.
Don't try to stay awake.
You need sleep.
I love you too! X
I chuckle when I see the little dots appear, indicating she's typing something. They go away only to reappear once more. Obviously, she's still awake. When her message arrives, my mouth goes dry from the photo. She's completely nude—no, when I zoom in closer, I can see she's wearing the number thirty-five necklace I gave her.
Holy fucking smokes. Message received. Loud and clear.
Flipping over my phone to conceal the photo, I glance around the cabin of our plane. The lights are low, and no one is paying any attention to me, including James beside me, whose eyes are closed.
After blowing out a deep breath, I return to my perusal of my new favorite photo. It's a selfie and she's standing in front of the full-length mirror in our bedroom closet. Bella's hair is down and pulled over her shoulder, while her arm barely covers her chest. She's turned slightly for a better view of her belly bump with her legs crossed, preventing me from seeing my other favorite parts.
I nearly drop my phone when it vibrates with another text.
Your wife needs that shutout D!
And there will be no sleeping until I get it!
I'm ready and waiting!
It's been over twenty-four hours!
She's so fucking horny. And demanding. I love it. This part of the pregnancy can't get any better for me.
Oh, you're going to get it.
Shutout D is the best!
That's a promise!
I'll be home soon. X
I can't wait! xx
/ /\ (oo) /\ \
Despite loving on my wife into the early morning hours after my arrival home, my energy today feels limitless. Once I finish with our Friday morning skate, I stop by Carmen's office, pick up a box waiting for me, then grab the lunch I ordered to share with Bella at her office.
"I have a delivery for Dr. Bella Swan-Cullen." I grin, emphasizing her hyphenated name.
"She's with a patient." My sister side-eyes the large platter I'm balancing on top of the box. "And she can't have sushi."
"You can stop right there, Mama Bear. I know. I already checked. No raw fish or cooked fish with high mercury levels. I've got this. So, put your concerned face away." Nodding toward the assortment, I explain, "It's all vegan at my request. No fish. They made it fresh for me."
"Of course they did. What's in the box?"
"Printed copies of our feature with D Magazine," I reveal. "I'm going to wait in her office."
"Oh?" Rose pushes away from the desk and follows me. "How did it turn out?"
D Magazine tagged us on social media this morning with a short reel from the behind-the-scenes video they recorded during our interview.
"I only saw the cover," I lie and shrug. I don't want to admit I couldn't wait to see which photos they selected from our Mexico shoot with Dianna.
The cover is so fucking incredible that I'm ready to cover the walls of my office with it. Or at least above our bed. Bella looks so fucking hot. I love that she's front and center, but there's no missing my hands resting at her waist and hip, as I stand behind her. I'm not going to apologize for my protective stance or the glare I'm sporting. She's my wife and I'm sending a message to any motherfucker who dares to think otherwise. That lawyer of hers included.
"Doc will probably want to read the article while we eat," I add.
"When will it be available?" Rose asks.
"Next week."
"Can I have a copy?"
"Yeah. After Doc sees it."
"After I see what?" Bella asks, joining us in her office. "Oh, sushi! Great. I'm starving."
"Our article. Hey, beautiful." I pucker my lips, waiting for a kiss.
She grins, kissing my lips lightly. "Hey, handsome."
"Gross," my sister says with a huge grin on her face as she looks between us.
"What are you ten?" I tease.
"Hardly," Rose snorts. "But I've been hanging out with Eric more than normal."
I shake my head, then explain, "I picked up our advanced copies after I finished with practice."
Bella refocuses on removing the lid from the sushi platter, then reaches for the other bag, locating a set of chopsticks. "Is it good?"
"See for yourself." I open the flaps of the cardboard box, handing her and my sister copies.
Rose gasps. "Look at you two! I need to read this. I'll be back after your lunch."
"Holy shit," Bella whispers while her eyes move over the photo.
With my sister's departure, I close the door and we settle into the chairs in front of Bella's desk. Removing our teas from the bag, I open each, then grab a set of chopsticks.
"Look at us. In this dress, I look like—"
"A hotter version of the Stanley Cup?" I smirk because that's what I thought first with their "Stanley Who?" caption.
"I hadn't thought of it that way, but damn. That vintage silver dress was gorgeous. And heavy. I love how it shimmers."
"It's more than the dress, Doc."
"I get that. You look incredible." Bella flips the magazine around for me to see the cover. "But this woman means business. Look at my expression. Maybe it's too intimidating. Would you want her as your dentist?"
"All day. Everyday." I smile, pointing toward our lunch. "Let's eat while you read the article."
With a nod, she flips through the pages, selects a piece of sushi with her chopsticks, and begins reading while eating. After finishing a mouthful, she says, "Oh, this is good. Maria did us right. So far, there's nothing specific about our parents or Sam."
"Did you check your social media this morning?" I ask between bites.
"No, of course not."
"They tagged us in a post," I share. "It's all good. Just a short excerpt from the interview."
"If I wasn't starving, I would be panicking right now." Bella shakes her head as her eyes travel over the pages. "Look at these photos." She does a quick intake of breath. "Oh, goodness—there's the side boob one with the sundress. Of course they used it."
"It's sexy. And you have great boobs," I defend.
"I'm a dentist. Your dentist should not be sexy. Or have great boobs."
"As if you can help it." I wink, then lean close, stealing a kiss from her lips.
"Wow. Okay. I knew this was happening, but to see the final copy in print is . . . something. Did you bring a paper bag for me to breathe into?" she jokes. "Maybe Rose can find me one."
At least, I think she's joking.
"I need more copies because I think I'm going to wallpaper my office with the cover," I taunt.
"You will do no such thing," Bella states.
"I thought it was my office?"
"Edward," she warns.
"Doc." I smirk. "Okay, fine. I'll frame one copy for every room."
"One copy. One room. Max. And no blowing it up to wall or ceiling size. I know you."
"I'm not agreeing to that. You look fucking gorgeous. Who says a dentist can't be sexy? You're smart and sexy. The complete package, changing the way people look at dentistry. Nobody wants to go to the dentist because typically there's someone like Sam or some other geezer waiting to inflict pain on everyone. They're using the same technology from decades ago. Then there's you with unlimited patience, new techniques, and the latest equipment. You can change the perception of the whole industry."
"With a glimpse of my side boob?" she asks skeptically.
"Your side boob game is strong, but I think it's only you focusing on it."
"And you."
"There's no denying I'm a fan." I grin. "The twins will be too."
"Don't remind me. I don't need any breastfeeding twins stress on top of this." She sighs while looking at the photos again. "Well, my hair does look spectacular in the side boob one, which is all Sage. I love the one of us walking along the beach. It's very romantic. The photos show very different sides of us—loving and playful inside, but all-business on the cover."
"True. What else does it say?"
She returns her attention to the article, continuing to read while eating. "There's confirmation of our elopement. A mention of our foundation. My mom briefly. Us starting a family. And you possibly retiring after this season, but it ends with your focus on winning the Cup. It's good. Maybe this is okay."
"It's better than okay and something that will put you ahead of other dental practices as you rebuild your patient list."
"You're probably right."
"Probably? Give me a little more credit than that."
"Okay, you're right," she states with a reluctant smile.
"That's better."
"Thanks for bringing lunch. It's delicious, and this version is a good compromise. What is this one? I'm guessing sweet potato, cucumber, and avocado?"
"Something like that, and you're welcome."
"Is Ben starting tomorrow night?" Bella asks.
"Yeah."
"Dad called me this morning while I was on the way to work. Mom's hair loss is becoming more noticeable. She's upset. He said it's coming out in large clumps. Mom is adamant about not shaving her head or anyone else doing something like that as a way to support her. She said she doesn't want the constant cancer reminder, but maybe Al can do a shorter, more fashionable cut for her during our visit. Or we can find some scarves that she could use."
"I'll message Carmen," I offer. "I'm positive she can find some before Sunday to take with you."
"Thank you." She grins. "You're the best."
/ /\ (oo) /\ \
Saturday night at American Airlines Center, I watch with disappointment from my spot on the bench as our game ends in a two-one regulation loss to Columbus with Ben in net. Another one-goal game that doesn't go our way or produce a single point. Not the outcome we need.
After Bella departs for Houston with Al, Scout, and Shadow Sunday morning, I leave for practice a little earlier than normal since I'm eager to be back on the ice. It feels as if time is running out, and I'm desperate to grab all the ice time I can bank.
Monday night's final home game against Vancouver is our fan appreciation night with Ben in net. At the game's conclusion, we sign our game worn jerseys and give them to specially selected season ticket holders. Unfortunately, it's another close game that ends with a two-two tie in regulation, giving us a much-needed point, but the game remains tied at the end of overtime as well, forcing a shootout. Round after round, we're evenly matched against their players, either scoring goals or missing shots, until Ben is unable to keep out a shot in the ninth round and we lose three-to-two, losing our opportunity to nab that second point.
We're currently in the first wild card spot in the Western Conference with Los Angeles, Minnesota, and Calgary chasing us for that second position. Nashville, St. Louis, and Colorado lead our Central Division, while Edmonton, Vancouver, and Vegas hold the top spots in the Pacific Division.
It doesn't escape my notice that Dad and Jake were hellbent on me being traded to two of those teams still in the hunt—Vancouver and Calgary.
With Anaheim and San Jose mathematically eliminated, it doesn't mean we can discount them by any means. They're in a position to be a spoiler, crushing a team's playoff hopes if they're able to string together wins against someone like . . . us or anyone else attempting to grab one of those two wild card spots. We could use a little luck on this road trip, especially in our final game of the season against Los Angeles.
As we're getting ready to depart for Anaheim after practice on Tuesday, Bella sends me a text.
Back in Big D and at work.
Not my favorite Big D! ;)
She also includes heart-eyes and drooling emojis that leaves me chuckling while shaking my head. Fuck, I love her.
=D
On the plane. Waiting to take off.
I'm starting tomorrow night.
I add a side-eye emoji.
YESSSSS! Good luck!
You know I'll be watching.
I gotta go! Patients waiting.
I love you! Safe travels. xx
I love you too! X
Once we're cleared for departure, I spend the next three hours listening to music during our flight while playing one of those ridiculously addictive matching games on my phone. After landing, we transfer to the waiting bus to travel to the hotel. During the ride, my phone vibrates with another text from Bella.
Hey, I need to speak with you privately.
Let me know when you're settled in your room.
I'll be on my way home in a couple hours.
I can't talk about this at the office.
Everything okay?
No. But it's nothing urgent.
PumpkinS are fine.
And you?
Idk.
That isn't reassuring.
Okay. I'll need at least three hours.
After check-in, we have our team dinner.
Bella, I love you. Don't forget it. X
I know. I love you too. xx
TTYS
I have no idea what the issue could be. Maybe something happened at the office since she doesn't want to talk there. Our article dropped today for D Magazine, but I can't imagine there being any fallout from that since we both went over it before the release.
Once we're checked in at the hotel, I leave my bag in my room and take a moment to use the bathroom before returning downstairs for dinner. No one has any sense of urgency this evening, as it seems to take forever for everyone to arrive and eat. When I'm finally back in my room, I text Bella that I'm ready for a video call, eager to hear what's going on.
Within minutes of my text, I'm put out of my misery and she's on the screen, curled up in our bed with Scout and Shadow.
"Hey, beautiful." With a pillow cushioning my back, I lean against the headboard of the bed.
"Hey." She sniffs, dabbing her eyes with a tissue.
"Are you okay? What's going on?"
Bella shakes her head. "I got an email late this afternoon, indicating my patient portal was updated with my recent lab results from our visit to my doctor last week."
"And?"
"I couldn't wait. I checked them. They're the same. The results are the same. My blood type is A negative," she reveals.
"Okay."
"While I was in Houston this weekend, I subtly, or maybe not-so-subtly with the look on Dad's face, double-checked with my parents, verifying their blood types. They were exactly as I thought. Mom's is B positive and Dad's is O negative. My results haven't been tampered with, and there hasn't been any sort of lab mix-up, as Rose suggested." Bella sighs with resignation before wiping away a few tears, trickling down her cheek. "Bottom line: there isn't any scientific way for their blood types to produce mine."
We're both quiet as I take a moment to consider the right response at what that could mean for us, her, and them.
"Oh, Bella."
"I know." Her tears flow steadily.
"They're still your parents," I reassure. "You can't lose sight of that. They raised you. They supported you throughout your life in all your choices. You were always wanted. Never forget that."
She rubs her forehead, then pushes her hair away from her face. "I get that, but biologically, they aren't my parents. Either one or both might not be—"
"Does it really matter who contributed to your genetic makeup?"
"That's what I'm trying to figure out. I mean, obviously, family medical history is important for us with me being pregnant. Do I push for answers? And if I do, am I ready for whatever those answers could be? It's pretty clear that I've uncovered . . . Fuck. I don't know what I've uncovered. And Mom is not . . . she's not in a good mental or physical state right now. She's nauseous and exhausted all the time. She has lost weight when she didn't have any extra to lose. And Dad . . . he could have the answers, but do I ask?"
"Wow."
"Right? I don't know what the right thing is to do. I don't want to hurt either of them," Bella says with a sigh.
"Have you told anyone?"
"Just you."
"I wish I were home. I would hug and love the shit out of you. I can—"
"No. You're not leaving. So, don't even suggest it," she warns. "You can still do all of that on Sunday when you return."
I smile. "I promise you I will."
"I don't want this to be the focus of our next trip to Houston, but how can it not be? How do I contain this? We're supposed to be celebrating Mom finishing her last round of chemo and radiation." Bella sniffs through her tears. "I've never had a single reason to believe that we weren't biologically connected. Both of their names are on my birth certificate. There are pictures of the three of us and other mementos in my baby book from when I was born. I need to dig that out and go over everything. Maybe it contains answers that I've overlooked?"
"Possibly," I admit. "Let's think about this and consider all scenarios. If Charlie is your dad and Renee isn't your mom, do you believe he would have let her move to another state with you?"
"The most selfless man on earth? Yes." Bella nods. "He would agree to just about anything Mom wants. He's also a former cop. So, he's great at the whole evasive, need-to-know thing, which worked flawlessly until his daughter became pregnant."
"I can see where he would be reluctant to share a secret of this magnitude," I agree, still trying to make sense of everyone's motivations. "Okay, we've covered one direction, what about if Charlie isn't your dad and Renee is your mom, do you believe she would have let you move back to live with him?"
"This is an impossible fucking guessing game," she states. Her voice filled with exasperation. "I have no idea what either was thinking during those times. Dad was upset when we moved. I remember that. It's one of the few times that I've ever seen him cry, but maybe that was more about losing Mom than me. Mom had no worries or concerns about me moving back to live with him that I remember. Yes, she would miss me, but she was off on her latest adventure with her new husband."
I propose the final scenario. "There's also the possibility that neither are your biological parents."
"I can't believe we're having this conversation. This was not on my bingo card. Like . . . ever."
"You can do genetic testing," I suggest. "James just went through all that shit with Angela."
"He's still going through that," she reminds me. "Do you really believe my parents will be happy to submit samples for testing when they have kept some sort of secret from me for my entire life?"
"I don't know."
"Have I opened Pandora's Box? Once we start down this path, there's no turning back. Is it already too late? Have I fucked up my whole family dynamic with something as simple as testing and re-testing to determine my blood type? Step fucking one of pregnancy and I found a snag." Bella shakes her head with disbelief.
"It wasn't actually step one." I wink. "We're farther along than that. And I loved step one."
"I know. Me too." She smiles. "But can I even trust them? How am I going to sleep tonight? My mind is in overdrive."
"Hey. Of course you can trust them," I reply. "Maybe they were protecting you from something else."
Bella huffs before rolling her eyes. "And there was never a good time to come clean in thirty-three years?"
"These are the choices they made at the time and the ones they continue to make. There has to be a reason driving that decision. Families aren't perfect. Parents aren't perfect. We won't be either. We'll make mistakes," I point out.
"I know," she agrees. "What if I have a whole other family out there that doesn't know about me in the same way I don't know about them? I never had any siblings growing up. I could have brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents, who are still alive. Shouldn't I connect with them? Do you think there's somebody out there looking for me? Hell, maybe Al and I are actually related? Who fucking knows at this point? Anything is possible. People are drawn unknowingly to one another for reasons that can't always be explained."
I nod at the thought. "I think you also need to consider the possibility that your parents may not know who your biological parents are. Maybe it's a situation where they don't have those answers, but if they did, then they would have given them to you."
Bella groans with frustration. "This is fucking nuts. My thoughts are running wild."
"Hey, it's going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay. This is up to you how we proceed, and I will support whatever you choose to do one hundred percent. If we choose to keep this between us, then that's where it will remain. If you have any issues during your pregnancy, we'll take whatever action necessary with the most informed decisions possible."
"I don't know . . ." Bella takes a moment to consider our options. "Okay. Let's keep everything just between us. At least until I have time to process and wrap my head around this . . . this bombshell."
"You got it," I promise. "Your parents love you, Bella. I love you. Nothing will ever change that for me."
Bella nods. "I love you too. I'm so lucky to have you. I'm sorry to take you away from all your team stuff."
"I'm not missing a thing," I reassure. "Sleep. Eat. Hockey. Repeat. That's the plan."
"You and I know it's more than that."
"You're right. I left out win." I grin.
"Good luck tomorrow night."
"Thank you. I'll give those Ducks everything I've got."
"I'm so proud of you. I'll be watching. We'll be watching," she corrects.
"You're having everyone over again?"
"No, it's just me and the twins." She grins, rubbing her belly "And maybe a pint of ice cream. I think there's still a pint of peanut butter cup I hid in the back of the freezer. Don't judge. I may hit it tonight too."
"No judgment here. Call me if you need me," I offer.
She smiles. "I always need you."
"If you need to talk, leave a message. I won't always have my phone with me, but I'll call you back when I can."
"Okay. How big are the twins now?"
I was just checking the app earlier on the plane. "The size of a plum."
"Two plums. No wonder nothing fits." Bella shakes her head.
"Speaking of your nakedness . . . will I get another naked photo for a shutout?" I ask curiously with a wiggle of my eyebrows.
She only laughs, but I love seeing a smile return to her beautiful face.
"I just need to understand how those work," I explain. "I never realized they were in play."
"Or you would have tried harder?"
"Something like that. Who doesn't love a naked incentive?" I grin, nodding toward her clothing choices this evening after work. "What are you wearing?"
"Your hoodie and some very non-sexy underwear," Bella replies, tilting the phone to give me a better view.
"I'll be the judge of that. Bra or no bra?"
"No bra."
"Mmmm," I hum my approval. "Prove it."
"I walked right into that one." She laughs, a sound I'm thrilled to hear, considering how this call began.
"You wouldn't want me any other way. In honor of D Magazine's readers ogling them today, let me see the greatest boobs in the history of dentistry."
"Edward!"
The last time we were on a West Coast road trip, Bella had been given those nipple stars from Al and Garrett, sending me one of my favorite topless photos of her. Unfortunately, when Bella tried to wear them recently, she said that her nipples were too sensitive due to the pregnancy.
"I bet they're bigger than the last time I saw them." I smirk. "You want a trade? I'll show you mine if you show me yours. I can be naked in two seconds. Just say the word."
Bella giggles. "Word."
/ /\ (oo) /\ \
The Honda Center is quieter than I anticipate on Wednesday night with a noticeable number of empty seats. It wasn't always this way, especially when I played here. The Ducks are experiencing a rebuilding season, but that doesn't change a thing from our side of the ice. We know they are stacked with young, fast players who have an exceptional amount of raw talent. They're all looking to make a name for themselves in this league, and it's only a matter of time before they make their mark. But I'm focused on the here and now. And we need these two points more than I think anyone realizes.
With Ben on the bench, I'm happy for another regular season start this evening. Thankfully, Chicago wasn't my last. I thought Ben would play the back-to-back games on his own since his record against Anaheim this season is two wins and no losses. His last win was a shutout, but tonight is my opportunity to close out our season series against them with another win.
Once the puck drops, we're unable to score on multiple chances with their goaltender making some insane stops, but it's the Ducks who get one past me first with a shot over my blocker. Watching the replay overhead, I wish instantly that I could have that one back. Damn it. We end the first period, trailing by one.
Even though the scoreboard doesn't reflect it, we're in control for the majority of the second period. We spend most of our time in the offensive zone, but their veteran goaltender is having a phenomenal night. After two periods, he keeps out our twenty-eight shots on goal, while I take care of business, saving twelve of thirteen I face.
Our attack in the third period continues, drilling their netminder with shots from every angle. With the odds in our favor, eventually, it's one from James that slips into the back of the net and we're even at one goal a piece. Despite a rigorous effort from both sides of the puck, we're destined for overtime.
With Tyler, James, and Demir at center ice, the ref drops the puck and James wins the face-off. Tyler carries the puck into the zone and passes the puck to James, who returns it quickly in a give and go. Tyler shoots . . . and scores. Everyone leaps off the bench and onto the ice, sharing their congratulations with him before me. It's a two-one overtime victory, which adds two more points to our total in the standings.
A great start to our road trip.
Without any postgame media responsibilities, I complete my workout, then shower before boarding our flight to San Jose. Once I'm settled on the plane, I check my phone, glancing through my texts while I eat, always starting with my wife's. I love that she's the first to respond and incredibly supportive, win or lose each game.
What a win! Congratulations!
We're in full celebration mode here!
I started yelling and Scout barked nonstop.
I think we startled Shadow because
she retreated to her tree. Lol
But I'm sure she's as proud of you as we are!
I was on the edge of my seat the whole game.
I love you so much! xx
I shouldn't text her since she should be sleeping, but if she's waiting to hear from me, it wouldn't hurt to check in, then she won't fight falling asleep.
Hey, beautiful! Thank you!
I love you too! X
We're on our way to San Jose.
How are you doing?
James nods toward my phone. "Is that Doc?"
"Yeah."
"Tell her I said hello."
"Okay. I'm not sure if she's still awake."
It takes a few minutes until she responds.
I'm missing you.
I miss you too.
I'll be back on Sunday.
I'm ready for Sunday.
How are you feeling?
Tired. I'll be glad once we land.
Then I can sleep at the hotel.
Also, hello from James.
"Hey." Holding up my phone, James pauses eating, leaning closer, and I snap a quick selfie of us. "Thanks."
"Sure."
Bella responds quickly after I send the photo.
My handsome hubby!
You both look exhausted.
Tell James hello and
congratulations from us on his goal!
It was fantastic!
"Doc says hello and congratulations on your goal tonight. She approves."
He laughs. "Me too."
I better let you get some sleep.
Okay. I love you!
Good night. xx
I love you too.
Sweet dreams, beautiful.
Good night. X
/ /\ (oo) /\ \
From my spot on the bench Thursday night at the SAP Center in San Jose, I finish a quick autograph for a young fan sitting nearby while we wait for the puck to drop at center ice. My location offers a unique opportunity in this arena, as I'm accessible to fans for in-game interactions. Once she happily returns to her seat, I scan the crowd. The Sharks are having trouble filling the seats too.
Remembering the last time we were in the Bay Area. Vladdy and I went to visit his family in San Francisco. His aunt fed us, then sketched designs, making notes for Bella's engagement ring. So much has happened since then. I wish I had time to visit them, but our extra day will be spent in Los Angeles on this trip. I'm hopeful they will be able to attend our wedding reception in June since I added them to my invite list.
There's no tribute for Marcus during the pregame, like there was at our last game since it was his first trip back to play against his former team. His jerseys are still worn proudly by most of the fans. We lost that match up on my watch, but I'm hoping for a different outcome tonight with Ben in net.
Once we're underway, we ring a shot off the pipes early, then Ben denies an effort by one of their players who attempts to go coast to coast. With the puck covered, Ben waits for the whistle, but one of their enforcers makes a hard stop in front of him, causing a large pile of snow to fly into Ben's face.
While the snowing of a goalie isn't a penalty, a player can receive a two-minute minor for unsportsmanlike conduct if it's intentional. The refs huddle together to discuss, but ultimately, they choose to continue play, which doesn't sit well with anyone on our bench, especially Coach. He comes unglued, shouting at the closest ref.
Everything spirals from there.
Coach is thrown out of the game we've barely started for cursing at the refs, while chirping between the benches ramps up with every stoppage of play. There are no accidents between opposing players, as everyone runs into one another during shift changes. Taunts and insults are hurled back and forth as tempers continue to flare.
A screen by one of their players prevents Ben from seeing a shot from San Jose's blue line, which hits top shelf into the back of the net, putting them up one-zero. Thirteen seconds later, the public address announcer is still announcing the players involved with the goal when San Jose scores a wrap-around goal that somehow squeezes past Ben. They add to their lead, making the score two-zero.
The shoving and pushing in front of our net and benches intensifies until James and Caius are both sent to the penalty box for fighting. With two of their players on the other side of the penalty box, we play five-on-five hockey, as the refs attempt to de-escalate the game.
The effort proves fruitless when one of San Jose's players collides with Ben while he's trying to play the puck in the trapezoid behind our net. When Ben doesn't get up, Marcus leans over, saying something to him, then waves for our medical trainer to come out onto the ice. I watch the collision overhead, but there isn't anything obvious as to what could be wrong.
Choosing to remain in the game, Ben stands on his skates, then glides back and forth from the net to the boards a few times before play continues. Even though we're on a power play, we turn over the puck in the neutral zone and San Jose scores a shorthanded goal. It's a dismal start with their team scoring three goals on seven shots. And it's still the first period with no end in sight.
My eyes shift to the net, watching as Ben struggles to stand on his own from what was a typical save until Demir skates to his side, helping him upright. He shakes his head at something Demir says and our assistant coach yells out "Spider" with a jerk of his chin toward the ice, making the call for the switch.
Despite playing last night, I'm in.
After sliding on my helmet, I grab my water bottle, blocker, and stick, then step out onto the ice, ready to get us back in this game. As I pass Ben, I notice the pain on his face while Demir and Marcus guide him off the ice.
Once everyone is out of the penalty box, the antagonizing chirps continue, but it's Marcus who puts us on the board with a goal, scoring on a deflection. During a television timeout, I skate over to our bench to find not Ben but Stefan dressed in his gear and sitting in my vacated spot, as if he doesn't have a care in the world.
He doesn't have to say it, but I know what it means—Ben isn't coming back. At least not tonight. Hopefully, our day of rest tomorrow will be what Ben needs before we face Los Angeles Saturday night. I can't contain my laughter when Stefan claims they were handing out seat upgrades and he's enjoying a better view from our bench.
By the end of the first period, the score remains three-one, but there's no sign of Ben in our locker room during the intermission. His gear is missing, and Stefan sits in his spot listening to our assistant coach break down our adjustments for the second period.
And the adjustments work.
Six minutes into the period, James scores on a second chance goal in front of the net, making it a one-goal game. It's Demir who answers next with a monster slap shot from the blue line to put the finishing touch on eliminating our three-goal deficit, and we're tied three-three. I face nine shots on goal, denying each and every one, keeping us in this game at the second intermission.
Taking the ice for the final twenty minutes of play, we miss a couple of perfect opportunities to score when the net is wide open, but San Jose's defense comes to the rescue. In the final three minutes of the third period, San Jose receives a slashing penalty, putting us on a power play. It's a shot by Marcus from the side of the goal that bounces off their netminder and falls into the back of the net. For the first time tonight, we take the lead.
As the final minutes tick off the clock, a frantic San Jose team continues its relentless attack. Fortunately, I keep the puck outside of the net, securing our come-from-behind, four-three victory, and we add two points to our total in the standings. Resting my arms on my knees after that onslaught, I lean over, breathing a huge sigh of relief before everyone lines up to congratulate me on the win.
Marcus is the only one named as a star of the game from our team, which leaves everyone shaking their heads at that decision. Yes, he had two goals with one of those as the game winner, but Tyler had three assists. James and Demir both had goals and assists, while I saved all twenty-two shots I faced. We were in a hole, and everyone stepped up, digging us out. We never gave up and that says something I love about this team when we're fighting for a spot in the playoffs every night.
After postgame workouts and showers, we board our flight to Los Angeles, but my body is feeling the fatigue of back-to-back games without proper recovery. There's only so much I can do when on a road trip. Sitting in my seat next to James, I don't think anyone misses the fact that we leave San Jose without Ben on our flight.
Once we're in the air, I glance through my texts of congratulations, plan to return those later, and down my dinner quickly before I join Stefan and Lou, our goaltending coach, to go over the game. When I ask about Ben, Lou explains he has a lower body injury and will be day-to-day, traveling to Los Angeles with Junior.
Lou also shares that with what we know right now, the starter and backup for our final regular season game will be a game time decision. And that we all need to be ready to go.
This isn't good.