I could almost feel the pain rip through him as he landed on the ice in a crumpled mess. He’d fallen at the hands of a New Jersey defenceman, I hadn’t seen who, only the collision between him and the bulky man’s leg. He’d spun around a full 360 degrees then smacked against the hard surface of the cold ice. I yelped involuntarily when I saw him laying in pain and the crowd on the bench parted to let me out. Sidney skated over to me, taking my shaking hand and helping me to the obviously stunned Beau. I had 7:26 left in my season with the Penguins and the injury had taken us all by surprise. I hadn’t been needed on the ice in weeks, all of our injuries had been discovered after the game. At one point I suspected they were doing whatever they could to keep me on the bench, but perhaps we were just lucky. And luck runs out, one minute everything is fine, and before you can recognize the upward swing it vanishes.

“Where does it hurt?” I dropped to my knees beside him, Sidney staying nearby.

“Everywhere,” he managed to say between laboured breaths and pain filled groans.

“I want you to take a deep breath,” I instructed. I put my face next to his and checked to see if there was any blood. Luckily his face was spared, and after taking a few breaths he was able to tell me it was the right side of his lower body. Ruling out any spinal injuries or need for paramedics, I motioned for Sidney to help me get Beau on his feet and off of the ice. He leaned mostly towards Sidney but we were able to get him to an examining room where Larry was already waiting for him. Sid returned to the game but I stayed with Beau, carefully removing his skates and freeing his legs from the socks and guards. He pulled off his jersey and let out an angry cry.

“This is fucking bullshit,” he said, rightfully frustrated.

“I know,” I squeezed his hand trying to bring some comfort to his tense body.

After a less than pleasant exam and a round of x-rays Larry ruled it a break in the right ankle and Beau slammed his fists against the bed beside him. I’d never seen him so emotionally charged, watching his vibrance and joy melt into anger and frustration startled me, once again I felt his pain deep inside of me. Watching him in such a state hurt in a way similar to watching Sidney only months prior. The whole situation was so reminiscent of the nights spent besides my now husband, hoping he’d heal before he suffered any mental repercussions. I stayed with Beau until the game had ended and Sidney joined us, already showered and bringing with him a change of clothes from Beau’s stall.

“I ruined it,” Beau whined. It was just the three of us in the room, Larry had left us to find the proper materials to set the break. “I’m sorry guys.”

I turned to Sidney, having no idea what Beau was talking about. He’d been given painkillers that had already kicked in, but his statement seemed like more than drug induced mumbling.

“You didn’t ruin anything, bud,” Sid clapped him on the shoulder with a gentle affection. “The cake will still be good when you’re done in here.”

“Cake?” I looked at them confused. My appetite had yet to subside and the mere mention of cake had me salivating.

“We were going to celebrate your last game, as a team,” Beau sighed. He seemed to feel genuinely guilty for effecting the plans. “But I’m guessing most of the guys are gone now,” he turned to Sid for confirmation.

“Most of them yeah, but we still get to bring home a cake,” Sidney laughed and kissed my head before leaving us to finish up with the medical part of our night.

We ate cake in our pyjamas, Beau high on painkillers and me eating twice as much as either of them, playing the baby card and refusing to let myself feel guilty as I savoured every bite of the vanilla cake with buttercream frosting laced with pure heaven. We sat around the table like a happy family, laughing and trying to forget the night that had just happened.

I cried that night. After everyone had gone to bed I snuck into the yellow room and sobbed. It wasn’t the kind of crying I wanted Sidney to see, but it was something I needed to let myself do. I sat on the floor, my back resting against the wall and let every emotion I’d been trying to control for the past two months flood out of my tired eyes and into the universe. I cried to mourn the temporary loss of my job, and in turn my sense of self. I cried out of fear, fear of the unknown, the new path I was being forced down not unwillingly. It was a combination of exhaustion, unprocessed emotions, and discomfort and after twenty minutes of shallow breathing and salty tears slipping down my face I finally wanted to talk to someone.

Calling her was a risk. It was two in the morning her time and I had no idea if she’d be awake. I could only pray that if she did pick up the phone I would be met with a welcome response.

“I had a feeling you’d call me tonight,” she answered on the third ring and her voice sent a wave of warmth over me. It was a feeling no one else could give me and I’d missed it desperately.

“Sorry it’s so late,” I mumbled, wiping the final tears off of my cheeks. “I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she chuckled. “Like I said, I had a feeling I’d hear from you tonight.”

“You’ve always been good at predicting the future,” I said a little more lively.

“Well I heard it was your last night at work, and I happen to know you very well Beatrice Keller.”

“Oh you do do you?” I teased.

“You bet I do, thats my job as your grandmother. In fact I can tell you right now that you’re sitting alone in a room while your husband is asleep. And let me guess, you’re sitting on the floor even though there are several perfectly functional chairs around.”

“That is so creepy!” I hissed and she let out a warm, deep belly laugh.

“But isn’t it useful?”

“Very.”

“So tell me about it, why are you up crying when you could be snuggled next to that hunky husband of yours?” She sounded oddly awake for the hour and I was amused to know that she thought Sidney was a hunk.

“Oh Little Bea,” she laughed. “Do you actually believe anyone thinks they’re going to be a good parent? No one is ever ready to have a baby, no matter how many books they read. Your situation is a little more challenging than most but if you think you can’t do it than I’m sorry to tell you but you’re very wrong.”

“How do you know? How do you know I’m not going to drop it on its head, or be so horrible as a parent that it has long lasting emotional scars? How do you know I’m not going to raise a serial killer?” I was finally being honest about all the irrational and terrifying thoughts that ran through my mind at night when I had nothing to distract me.

“You’d be surprised how resilient children are. Keep this to yourself, but I dropped your Uncle when he was a baby, and when J.J was learning to crawl he toppled down the stairs one day when your father wasn’t watching closely. They both turned out perfectly fine!” she stated.

“I think you might be overestimating J.J,” I snorted sarcastically, in typical little sister fashion.

“Be nice,” she warned, but I could hear the smile in her voice. “I am by no means advising you let this baby land hard on the floor, I’m just saying that things happen and there is no use worrying about them until you come face to face with the situation. I should also tell you that your uncle and daddy both slept in my bedroom until they could talk, so if this baby comes and he doesn’t have a room with all the high tech video monitors and diaper genies that are now considered a necessity, he will be perfectly fine.”

“You think it’s a boy too?” I asked excitedly, skimming over the quality advice she’d just given me.

“I have no doubt in my mind,” she assured me. “But did you listen to a thing I said? You have to stop worrying. And don’t kid yourself by thinking you’re not going to have help when he’s born. Sidney might be jetting off to Russia but your mother is already talking about booking her ticket. I’m sure his mother is thinking the same thing, and if you have use for me I’ll be down there in the blink of an eye. You’ve got people Beatrice, lots of them.”

“Thank you,” I said softly, now wiping tears from my eyes for a completely different reason. “I’d like you to come. In fact, I want you to be here for the birth, we’re doing it at home.”

“You give me a date and I’ll be there with a suitcase full of roast chicken chips and Kraft Dinner.” Once again my saliva glands kicked into gear at the mention of Kraft Dinner. “Oh and I meant to ask, how is young Mr. Bennett doing? I saw him take quite the tumble, he’s such a nice boy I hope he’s alright.”

It wasn’t the first time Big Bea had saved the day, and it wouldn’t be the last. With my days of full time employment put on hold we spent many afternoons on the phone discussing the terrifying reality of parenthood that I was about to face. I called her six times the first time Sidney went on the road without me, which is nothing compared to the seventeen times he called me. It was four of the longest nights of my life, and even with Serena and Beau on hand to distract me, I felt a sense of emptiness.

I was grateful for Beau’s injury, as horrible as it sounded. His broken ankle meant that other than his daily physical therapy, he was home to keep me company, because without him there was a high likelihood that I would have completely lost my mind.

“Can I ask you something?” he broke the spell of silence that had come over both of us as we sat in the living room watching reruns of Law and Order on a chilly afternoon.

“Yeah,” I replied, not taking my eyes off of the attractive Detective Olivia Benson and taking a bite of my third pop tart of the day.

“How much access do you have to the team medical files?” his question caught my attention and I paused the TV, then placed my half eaten pop tart back in its foil packages.

“Pretty much complete access, why do you ask?” I focused on him completely, studying his obviously nervous face.

“Do you read them? I mean have you read mine?” he looked down at his hands, refusing to make eye contact me with.

“I’ve glanced at it for reference but I don’t sit down and read it before bed? Why? What’s wrong?” I was beginning to worry. It was rare to see Beau in anything but a good mood, but since his injury I’d noticed he’d become more withdrawn and sullen.

“Can I tell you something?” he looked up at me tentatively, resembling a nervous child.

“Of course,” I smiled, trying to ease his anxiety all while battling my own.
“They put me on Lexapro.” Beau looked down at the floor again then back up at me, waiting for me to say something.

I could have asked him why, or told him it was nothing to be ashamed of, but I knew better. Instead I shifted the focus to what he was telling me. “Is it helping?”

“I’m not sure.” We finally made eye contact and I could see unsure he was about everything he was saying. “I feel weird, weirder than usual.”

“How long have you been on it?” I shifted my position and smoothed my shirt over my stomach, making sure I was completely covered.

“About two weeks. But I can’t tell if it’s working, I’m so tired all the time and I feel like I’m going to be sick on a regular basis.”

“Well that’s pretty normal,” I smiled, remembering the many adjustment periods I’d gone through on different drugs. “SSRIs have a tendency to impact your sleep and stomach. They also take about a month to really settle in, so I’d give it a little more time before you worry too much.”

“How do you know?” he looked slightly alarmed, as if he’d just discovered that I worked in the medical field.

I could have lied and told him it was part of my job, or that it was just common sense. I could have left myself out of the conversation completely. But this was Beau, my practice son. This was someone who was a part of my daily life, someone I cared about more than an acquaintance on the street. It felt dishonest to sit beside him denying my personal experience while he struggled to cope with his own.

“I was on a nice cocktail of pharmaceutical mental aids before I got pregnant,” I confessed.

“Seriously?” He looked at me sideways, it was apparent that he didn’t fully believe me.

“Completely serious. I’m my own ten degrees of fucked up over here, let me assure you.’”

“Wow,” he shook his head and smiled. “I wouldn’t have guess that.”

“Just like I wouldn’t have guess that you were. It’s pretty common actually. Everyone has their shit, some of us just need chemical help sorting ours out.” I placed my hand on his leg comfortingly, squeezing his knee.

“I guess that’s good. Don’t tell anyone, okay? I’m just not ready to talk about it with anyone else.”
“Of course,” I smiled and reached for the remote. “But if you do want to talk about it, you know where I live.” I pressed play and we settled back into the the world of the NYPD special victims unit.

We didn’t talk about it again, but I found some comfort in knowing that he trusted me enough to tell me. His confession reminded me just how much perception differs from reality. I’d always seen Beau as the most relaxed member of our household, a happy-go-lucky kid who had adapted wonderfully to his life in the spotlight, but his reality was far different. Our lives were so much about appearances and portraying ourselves in a certain light that it was easy to forget that underneath all the well put together game day interviews and carefully planned PR events, they were just people. I knew them on a level beyond their jobs, but how well did I really know them. How well does anyone know another person.

I wasn’t home when Sidney returned after those fivelong days apart. Serena had convinced me it was time to start shopping, and after a relatively successful day in at least a dozen baby stores, I arrived home to find the house uncharacteristically dark. While Serena carried my bags to what would eventually be the nursery, I set off in search of Sidney. With only so many places he could be it didn’t take long before I found him in the office, sitting at the desk with his head in his hands and the phone pressed against his ear..

“Yup,” Sid said unenthusiastically into the phone. He looked up at me and waved me in. My stomach dropped seeing the stressed look on his face, but my heart sped up knowing that I could finally be with him. I grinned and walked over to him making myself comfortable on his lap and staying as silent as possible.

“Yeah, I know you are Dad,” he mumbled again.

After a few, ‘mhms’ and ‘alrights’ he said tense goodbye and I love you, then slammed the phone onto the receiver. I turned to him confused, but didn’t say anything. He needed his own time to process the conversation, whatever it was. He took a few minutes, wrapping his arms around and burying his face in my shoulder.

“Well Dad says hi,” he finally spoke. I gave him a sympathetic look and ran my finger along the stress lines on his forehead.

“What happened?”

“Well he asked if we’re coming home for Christmas,” Sid’s hand slipped under my shirt and he rest his palm against the side of my stomach, giving him the needed skin on skin contact.

“Okay,” I urged him to continue, relishing his touch.

“He doesn’t want me to,” he said flatly. I could sense the hurt in his tone but could tell he was trying to hide it.

“What? Why not?” I asked softly, now tracing his hairline with my fingers.

“He thinks we should stay here and focus on getting ready for Sochi.” Sidney shook his head and let out a frustrated sigh. I stared at him in horror. I couldn’t imagine my father telling me not to come home for Christmas.

“You’re kidding right?” I cried. “Sochi isn’t until February!”

“I know, but this isn’t a surprise,” he clenched his jaw and I placed my hand on his cheek, reminding him to be careful with his still newly healed mouth. “Honestly, Bea, sometimes I think the only reason he cares about me is because of hockey. Because he gets the credit for so much of who I am. Never mind the pressure he put on me growing up, or the fact that we barely talk unless it’s about hockey. I have to live out the dream he didn’t get to and I have to do it perfectly.”

I’d never heard about this side of his father, but nothing he said was shocking. I knew my father-in-law, and as much as I liked him I could see how his reserved nature and gruff love could be translated into an exorbitant amount of pressure on his son.
“I’m sorry,” I kissed his forehead softly and hugged him tighter to me.

“I didn’t even call to talk about Christmas,” he shook his head. “I called to see if they were going to Taylor’s game in a few weeks while we’re in St. Paul because I was going to leave tickets for them and maybe drive down to meet them. I didn’t call to hear about how I haven’t been scoring as much as I usually do. I wanted to talk to my dad not my coach. He told me I’m distracted, like it’s some kind of huge revelation, like I have no reason to be a little off kilter lately.”

I knew he was talking about me and the baby, we were the reason he was distracted, and I tried not to take it personally, but it stung nonetheless. I had never wanted to affect Sidney’s game negatively, I’d spent a large part of our relationship trying to cause as little impact as I could. But with the changes in our relationship and soon our lives it was inevitable. To the normal person change was stressful, but for Sidney and me— two anxious, controlling people who did their best to keep things routined— it was cause for serious planning.

“I hate that he makes you feel this way.” My heart ached seeing his usually smiling face looks so overwhelmed and exhausted. But I knew there was nothing I could do to fix it for me, once again I was helpless.

“Promise you’ll never let me do this to our kids. If I ever start to put too much pressure on them hit me or something. I don’t want them to live their lives trying to please me”

“I promise I’ll smack you if you’re a dick to our kids, although I have to ask how many kids we’re talking about here,” I giggled.

“Well I don’t think we should have enough for our own TLC show, but I’d like little Stanley-etta to have brothers and sisters,” Sidney pat my stomach affectionately and I watched the light return to his eyes and his face break into a grin.

I didn’t bother reminding him that we were having a boy, who would not be called Stanley, instead just smiled and rest my head against his, enjoying the feeling of having him back in my arms.

****

Despite being the most consistent thing in our world, time has a funny way of moving unevenly. There were days that felt like years, but weeks that passed like minutes. I tried to get used to the freedom of maternity leave, but at moments felt like I was completely losing my mind. American Thanksgiving came before we knew it and with that so did my thirtieth week of pregnancy. Despite having months to get used to my ever expanding waistline I was still caught off guard when I got dressed and found that absolutely none of my old clothes would fit over my semi spherical midsection and constantly growing body. Every outfit was becoming a challenge and I was ready to relinquish myself to wearing muumuus for the next ten to twelve weeks.

Sidney sat patiently on the bed while I tried to piece something together, just as he had countless times before. We were expected at a team dinner in less than an hour and my hair was still wet from the shower we’d spent far too long in. Clothes covered the bed, discarded as either too small or too casual for the high end restaurant the team had booked.

“Wear the black dress,” Sid said, not taking his eyes off of the television. “You look good in black.”

“That’s because it matches my heart,” I chuckled, pulling the dress off of its hanger.

“Oh yeah, my goth, hardcore wife,” he rolled his eyes and watched me struggle to pull the sleeveless jersey cotton over my head. “Would you like me to download some Evanescence for the ride over?”

“That would be lovely, dear,” I adjusted the dress over my body and proceeded to make faces at myself in the mirror until I heard him groan in exasperation.

“I love watching you try to convince yourself you’re not incredibly attractive, but I also really love steak, and the sooner we leave the sooner we can get there and I can get that steak. So if you could speed this getting ready montage up to about double time I’d really appreciate it,” he shot me a cheeky grin and stood from his spot on the bed, setting to work rehanging all the clothes I’d tossed aside.

“Yes dear,” I groaned dramatically and pulled my hair into a ponytail.

We arrived before half of the team, which felt like a very Crosby thing to do, and settled at a half full table in the private room they’d booked just for the occasion. I greeted everyone with a smile, quickly falling into the role as Sidney’s confident and well put together wife. I answered the usual questions about the pregnancy, and tried to stay positive about my experiences with maternity leave so far. The conversation was light and easy, but I still felt a sense of relief when it turned to hockey and I was no longer required to keep up with so many voices.

I was focused intently on the water glass in front of me, only half listening to Sidney talk about their last game against Boston so I noticed immediately when my phone vibrated from the purse at my feet. Eager for the distraction I dug under the table to retrieve it, finding an unread message from James waiting for me. Or Mom’sRealFavourite as he’d labeled himself in my phone, in retaliation to Beau’s name change in my contacts.

James:
On my way and bringing Colbie. Can u save us seats? So she has someone other than me to talk to. Thx

I smiled at the message and replied with an enthusiastic ‘sure’ and a row of smiley faces. I was excited to meet the girl he’d told me about weeks ago.

The waitress had come with the second round of drink orders by the time they arrived, James wearing the same dress shirt and pants combo as every other player in the room and holding the hand of a girl I assumed was Colbie, but could have sword was a perfect clone of Millie. Her red curls and freckled skin matched my ex-girlfriend’s perfectly and I elbowed Sid, alerting him to their entrance.

“Oh wow, weird” he said so only I could hear.

“Right?” I replied just as quietly.

They made their way to the seats I’d saved beside me, Pascal and James already engaged in lively banter. She looked lost, nervous in a way i could relate to completely. There was nothing easy about walking into a room of NHL players and their above-average looking wives.

“You must be Colbie,” I smiled at her, immediately snapping into the role of welcoming female companion. “I’m Bea.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” she replied and I noticed her gaze had landed on my bare arms. It wasn’t uncommon for people to notice the images printed onto my arms, but I was still confused when I saw them stare, it was like I forgot they were there.

"I guess someone is too busy with his little man crush on Duper to introduce you so I will,” I laughed and reached behind her to smack the oblivious James playfully on the back of the head. If he wanted to impress the girl ignoring her was not the way to do it. James shot me a look of mock horror, like I’d severely offended he fragile soul then returned to his senseless conversation with Pascal.

“This is my husband, Sidney,” I began with the most obvious and least likely to embarrass her.

Sure enough he smiled politely and held out his hand to her. They exchanged pleasantries and made small talk while I zoned in on Beau who was walking towards us. I grabbed him as he walked behind me, oblivious to our presence.

“Hey,” he grinned at me, his foot still in the walking cast. “I didn’t see you there,” he added with a cheeky wink.

“Because I blend in so well,” I rolled my eyes at him and let go of his arm. I decided to wait before introducing Colbie— who sat staring at him the way most people do. I wanted to see if James would do anything or if he’d continue to be clueless.

Sure enough after their own brotherly greeting, James turned to Colbie and presented her with a smirk.

“Damnit!” Beau cried and reached into his back pocket pulling out a wad of cash and handing it to Pascal. I glared at them unimpressed. They were really not doing a good job of welcoming the poor girl.

“I told you she was real!” James hissed and I couldn’t tell if I wanted to laugh or knock their heads together.

“I believed you, Jame,” Pascal chuckled and counted the money.

“Colbie, this is Beau, and that’s Pascal,” I intervened before they could humiliate her beyond repair. “Don’t take it personally, they bet on everything. Last time I checked there was a $2,500 wager on the basement bits of my unborn child.” I rambled mindlessly trying to smooth over the situation and distract her from their ridiculous antics.

The boys greeted her and I took a deep breath before introducing her to the rest of the table, our table was made up entirely of players, their wives having opted out of attending the social gathering. I briefly wished I’d done the same, but seeing Colbie beside me, looking slightly dazed and uncomfortable, I was glad I was there, if only as a buffer between her and the insanity of the team.

“So James said you’re a nanny?” I asked after the food had been served, having given her enough time to get a little more comfortable, the rest of our dinner guests in their own conversations.

“Yeah,” She smiled, covering her mouth and swallowing her bite of food. “Three kids.”

“That must be fun,” I replied excitedly, trying to distract her from the fact that I was rearranging the food on my plate, a habit that despite my constant hunger I still couldn’t kick in situations where I was at all nervous.

“I really like it,” she nodded, taking a drink. “Do you work for the team?”

“I do!” I grinned, impressed that she knew I had more of a role with the team than just being Sidney’s wife. “Well, I did, until this month. I’m on the medical team, but someone,” I jerked my head towards Sidney who was completely unaware of our conversation, “got a little too worried about me working this close to baby time so I’m on leave now.” I made sure to keep the smile plastered to my face as I explained my newfound joblessness, not wanting to let on how frustrated I was.

“When are you due?” she asked the typical followup question and glanced down at my stomach instinctually and smiled.

“Early February.”

“Right before the Olympics,” she chuckled as the waitress filled our water glasses.

“Hopefully before. Man I’m hoping for before,” I laughed. “I’d like to avoid giving birth by myself while my husband hangs out in Russia eating caviar and knish!”

“I don’t even like caviar,” Sid teased having caught our conversation. He rest his hand on my stomach and wrinkled his nose at me affectionately. “Besides, she’ll be out before I leave. We have a deal,” he winked at me and pat the bump that I knew contained a boy.

“I really hope you’re right, but I’m tell you now we’re having a boy,” I teased back, remind him for the thousandth time. “I know these things.” I was now aware that the attention of the table had shifted to us.

“We better be right, Bea!” Beau called from the other end of the long table. “I got big money on this.”

“Thanks for being so invested in my crotch creature, buddy,” I called back to him sarcastically.

“It’s my pleasure,” he gave me that cheeky grin I’d become so used to.

“I hope you’re this invested when he’s here and living with us,” I laughed. Sidney and I had been making our own bets against how long he’d last before moving out to get away from chaos that inevitably came with an infant.

I was too busy bickering back and forth with Beau, who had informed us he was looking forward to the new member of the Keller-Crosby clan, to notice that Colbie had left the table. Concerned, I turned to James giving him a confused look.

“I think her phone rang,” he whispered back to me, shrugging.

“Ah,” I nodded. “Well I like her, you have my seal of approval.”

Notes

Something feels off. I don't know if it's me or the story. Hell, maybe it's the cosmic alignment or my chakras, but I feel like something is off here.

Also, crossovers are hard, harder than I expected. It felt like hours of glancing back and forth between the two stories, trying to make sure that things happening (especially with Beau's injury) that weren't mentioned in Longest Time didn't end up screwing it up.

Sometimes it feels like I'm repeating myself 10000 times over because I want to include every single detail of their lives. I have every event in my mind in high definition clarity and I want to write it out and because of that it feels drawn out. But on the same note it feels so fast. I think part of my confusion is because I'm also working on a non fan fiction version of this, so half of my mind is thinking in terms of how general fiction work, and the other half is telling me to relax and just enjoy writing it. I guess I need to remember that this isn't the final version, and the one I plan to send off in manuscript form is going to be different.

This is my mind without the distraction of school.
xx-T
P.S I still love your comments and I appreciate all of the reads, I swear I could say that every single chapter and still to fully express my gratitude!