So, this story started as just something to have a little fun with. Then I teased it a couple of times in WCs and they kept begging for more. I'm a push over and so here it is. Thank you very much to my girls, Twilightladies1, AngelycDevil, Lellabeth, and my awesome beta StateofDelusion. This would never have made it this far without them. I love you guys!

Disclaimer One: I don't own Twilight, clearly. I'm just highly high delusional.

Disclaimer Two: The NHL, the Vancouver Canuks, the AHL, and the Seattle Thunderbirds are copyrighted by their owners. I use them here with the highest amount of respect.

Disclaimer Three: While, yes, I am a hockey fan, I am NOT a hockey expert. I have never played hockey. I will do my best to be as knowledgeable and precise as possible. However, I also can't promise to not use a little Literary License here and there. When I do you will find my corrections in the bottom authors note. If you see something I miss or something I got wrong let me know nicely in a review and I will do my best to correct it.

Alright, that's long enough of a note. Go read the story, I'll see you at the bottom!


The Phone Call

BPOV

The truck didn't sound good. It sputtered, popped, and groaned much more than normal. To be fair it was old. It had been bought by a friend of my dad's in 1962, and it hadn't been new then. My dad had given it to me when I moved in with him my junior year, and it had always made a lot of noise. It would rumble, choke, and made an ear splitting roar, but it was a healthy kind of noise. The noise now was like it was wheezing.

It's time to admit it, I thought as I turned off the highway into a quiet Seattle neighborhood. My truck is sick. I would have to see about getting it into the garage. Edward was out of town. I could use his car until he got back next week. I was more worried about paying to get it fixed. My salary as a preschool teacher just barely covered our expenses and minor league hockey didn't leave much wiggle room in our budget.

I sighed and quickly corrected my sarcastic thoughts. Edward did the best he could and he loved what he did. I supported him one hundred and ten percent. It was his dream. I had to.

I couldn't help the smile that slid across my face when I remembered the first time I met Edward. I had just moved in with my Dad to get away from my mom. That woman was… I stopped my thoughts dead in their tracts. After the day I had just had, I was not going to reopen old wounds.

So instead I focused on much happier things. That first day of school I sat next to Edward Cullen in biology. He was tall, smart, sexy, and popular. In other words, he was completely out of my league. And then he smiled this breathtaking crooked smile at me, and I was a goner. When I lived with my mother, the last thing on mind was a boyfriend. I barely knew who I was, much less how to be with someone else.

I smirked. Wouldn't be the last time he saved me.

Edward shattered my every perception of the high school jock. I expected him to be rude, stuck up, and only care about what he looked like. He didn't though. He was sweet, caring, protective, and funny. He never worried about what we looked like. He always told me that I was beautiful and believed it for me even when I couldn't. He was more than willing to sit quietly with me, and he never forced me into the spotlight.

I frowned up at the darkening sky as I pulled into a parking place. It looked like the sky was about to give away. My eyes got caught on the faded crossed hockey sticks in the lower right hand corner of the windshield. I had gotten the damn sticker years ago when the high school hockey team was making a bid for the state championships. Everyone got one and, well, I was dating the captain of the team, there was no getting out of it.

Our senior year Edward led Forks High to their first Hockey Championship. He was over the moon, and it ended up just being the beginning of a very busy year for us. He was barely off the ice before a handful of colleges were offing him scholarships.

I twisted the simple diamond ring around my finger and grinned. That wasn't the only the only big thing that had happened that night. Later, after he had managed to extract himself from scouts and well-wishers, he practically begged me to marry him. It was cute, awkward, and fumbling—not at all what his romantic self would have planned—and the best thing about it was he said he couldn't do any of this without me and he didn't want to ever let me go. Even though I was nervous about the whole idea—we were so young and it hadn't worked out well for my parents— I couldn't tell him no. I loved him beyond anything that I understood, and I liked the idea of never letting him go.

Our parents were less than thrilled. I suppressed a groan. My mother was still mad about it to this day. It was one of the many reasons that she and I didn't talk much. Regardless, a month after we graduated we were married, and not a month after that, we had moved across the country to attended Yale University.

I shook my head to clear away the memories. Right now I had other things to do. I had groceries to get inside, calling the mechanic to work on the truck, working on my lesson plans for the rest of the week, and hoping that the apartment building wouldn't fall down around me. On the other hand, it had been a long, hard day. Maybe, I should just take a bath and go to bed.

Well, first things first, I had to get the groceries inside. Just as I pulled opened the door, the floodgates opened and a hard, late autumn rain began to fall. I glowered and began trying to juggle both paper bags to get them up the stairs and into our third floor apartment. As soon as I was out of the truck I was drenched. I jogged to the foot of the stairs and was already half way up before the bottom of one of the sacks broke and my groceries feel out of the bottom and to the ground two flights below me—including the package of cookies I had been planning to binge on later.

I managed to open the door, but I stubbed my toe as I walked into the side table and knocked over a picture frame. I dumped my bags and the groceries on the cabinet and went back out to get the fallen items, getting even more drenched.

By the time I made it back inside I was freezing. "Damn it," I muttered. After the day I had had, it was only to be expected.

Bending, I picked up the picture that had gotten knocked off the table. Edward and I grinned back up at me. The picture was taken in front of our place back in Connecticut. We were both wearing black graduation gowns and caps. He was leaning over me, so that his chin was on my shoulder as we grinned at the camera. Edward had gone to Yale on a hockey scholarship while I attended Southern Connecticut State.

Connecticut was interesting. I got my degree in Library Sciences—not that it did me any good without the accompanying Masters. Edward and I enjoyed college although we did fast track both of our programs.

Edward played college hockey for three years. We had agreed that he wouldn't try for the NHL until he graduated. We felt it was important that we had a backup plan in case his going pro didn't work out. NHL scouts hounded him for all three years, and I think we were both relieved when we graduated a year earlier than expected.

I traced the edge of Edward's grinning face. I had always loved this picture. Little bits of red hair were sticking out from under the edge of the black cap and his green eyes were bright and lively. By the time the picture had been taken, he had already been drafted by the Canucks. We were getting ready to move back to Seattle. He had insisted on the picture, said we needed to mark the moment.

Edward was currently in his third season with the Thunderbirds, the Canucks minor league team, and he was frustrated. He had a bad year last season and his game had suffered. He turned twenty-four in June and he felt time was running out. I loved my husband, and he was devoted. His dream since he was just big enough to put on skates was to play in the NHL and he was working extra hard trying to make it clear that the Canucks needed him.

To be honest, I was worried about him. He was pushing himself too hard. If he wasn't careful he was going to get himself injured and then what would he do? I sighed. As magnificent as I thought he was on ice, I got worried every time he was on it. Hockey is a violent game. Concussions were the least of the worries. With the way that he was pushing himself, it only made injures that much more likely. I would listen to his away games with my heart stuck in my throat. If he got seriously injured and he couldn't play, I didn't know what he would do with himself. The man lived to play hockey and love me.

I forced my mind off of my talented husband and placed the picture back in its rightful place. I needed to go put away the groceries and get to work on my lesson plans. Six o'clock in the morning was a lot closer than I liked to think.

Half of the groceries were put away when I heard my phone ringing. I ran from the kitchen to the living room to grab my phone knowing that it could be something important. I never let the phone ring if Edward was out of town. If this was some stupid telemarketer, then I was going to be pissed.

"Hello?" I gasped.

"Bella?" The phone interference ruined his normally velvet tones, but I could hear the excitement in his voice—something had happened. Sensing my frustrations, he asked, "Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not." I didn't mean to snap or unload on him, but I couldn't help it. He was my best friend. He was the only one that I wanted to talk to. It had been a bad day and Edward would be able to put it all into prospective for me. "It started raining when I got home, and the grocery bags broke, and I lost my cookies. One of the kids threw up all over me at work. The truck sounds like something's wrong with it, and I have no idea how we're going to pay for it."

"Bella. Bella." He was definitely excited. I could hear the smile in his voice. "You know I love you and would listen to you non-stop, but I'm about the catch a plane and I don't have a lot of time."

"Plane? Why are you catching a plane? You still have a game in Austin and two more in Grand Rapids?"

His excited, slightly nervous chuckle broke through the phone. I felt the answering smile break on my face. "I'm flying to Vancouver."

"Vancouver?"

"Bella, I need you to get Friday off so you can catch the ferry. I'm playing a home game Friday night in a Canucks jersey."

"They called you up?" I squealed.

"It was completely out of the blue!" I had to remove the phone from my ear he was so loud. "Even coach didn't expect it."

"Oh my God! Edward, that's fantastic."

"Look I gotta go. The plane's boarding. I'll call you as soon as I can, okay?"

"Okay." I replied, starting to become a little breathless. This was too crazy.

"I love you, Bella." His voice was becoming thicker, and I could almost hear the tears that were threatening to fall.

"I love you too, Edward. Call me later, okay?"

"K." And the line clicked dead. Edward hated good-byes.

I put the phone down still in shock. Hadn't I just been thinking about what would happen if he didn't get moved up? I shook my head. What was it about terrible days that led to good news? It never rained it poured.

I began putting groceries away while contemplating what the move up would mean. My husband was playing national league hockey. This would be interesting.


Alright, the first of those Literary Licenses I was talking about. The Seattle Thunderbirds are not the Canuks farm team. Their AHL (American Hockey League) affiliate is the UTICA Comets and they don't start playing until the 2013-2014 season. The Seattle Thunderbirds are in fact part of the junior league. The reason I changed this is simply because I wanted to keep Edward and Bella in the Pacific Northwest.

So, what did we all think? I know you didn't really get to met hockeyward (phones calls don't count.) I promise there is plenty more coming.

Leave me a review and let me know what you thought? or what you would like to happen?

See you next time.