#reemer

              James was always good with your nieces and nephews and loved to play hockey with them. You loved to watch him with the kids, imagining your own little one out there with his or her daddy and cousins, playing hockey and laughing.

              He'd make a great dad.

              "Uncle JVR!" your oldest nephew yelled. "Play goalie!"

              "I'm not a good goalie" he said, starting for the small net. "But I'll try."

              "Uncle Jamie is a terrible goalie" your niece said. "'Member last time?"

              "Maybe Freddie taught him something" your nephew said.

              "Freddie's a good goalie." There were murmurs of agreement from James and the children. Despite being raised a Caps fan, when you started dating James, you had convinced the family to become Leafs fans. Your dad was the last one to agree, but when James came to him to ask for your hand in marriage, he finally opened his heart to another team.

              Now your parents’ house was decorated in blue and white memorabilia.

              Your dad and brothers were beside themselves when the whole Leafs roster was at your wedding.

              "Aunt (Y/N)?" your niece asked. You looked down at her. "Will you come play with us?"

              "Yeah Aunt (Y/N)" James teased. "Come play!"

              "Fine" you said pushing yourself up off the swing. "But I'm not playing goalie."

              "You can be on my team!" your niece said.

              "I don't know" your nephew said. "She's a liability." James burst into laughter as you picked up one of James' sticks that he had cut down for the kids to play with the first time he met them.

              "Rude!" you said. "I won't play."

              "Nooooo" the kids whined.

              "You can distract Uncle JVR!" your nephew said. You looked at James and winked.

              "I do a good job of that!"

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              "I can't wait to tell the guys" you teased as you sat next to James on the porch swing. The kids had gone to bed for the night and you and your husband were enjoying the peaceful (somewhat warm) spring air.

              "Don't" he laughed. "Otherwise they'll all try to kiss Freddie to score."

              "I'd pay to see that" you laughed. During the final minute of game seven of the Stanley Cup Finals (the kids thought James would appreciate playing that game), you distracted the other team's goalie by kissing him.

              It worked.

              "You know" he said slowly. "I was thinking."

              "Oh yeah? About what?" James looked at you and shrugged.

              "Maybe just like... when we were going to be ready for our own little hockey players."

              "Oh" you said.

              "I mean whenever you're ready" he said quickly. "No rush I mean I was just wondering..."

              "James" you said, cutting off his nervous rambling. He was adorable when he did that. It only happened once before, when he was proposing to you. "I think we'll be ready in oh about... seven months."

              "Oh ok then we should..." James paused and you giggled. "Wait... seven months?"

              "Yeah" you said grinning. "I didn't want to tell you until after the playoff run, but... I'm pregnant."

              "You...? We...? Oh my god, (Y/N)!" James hugged you tightly, pressing kisses to every inch of you he could reach. "We're having a baby!"

              "We are" you agreed, nodding. "Steph and Molly are already planning a shower."

              "They know?" You nodded. "Playoffs are more important babe" you said. James grinned.

              "Maybe a baby will give me a Cam Talbot kind of season, next season." You laughed as James' hands moved to rest on your stomach. "Hi baby."

              "James" you whispered, setting your hands over his. "We're having a baby."

              "I know" he whispered. "Brendan will have to get over not being the baby van Riemsdyk anymore." You laughed. "Love you babe."

              "Love you too."

              "And I love you BVR" he said to your stomach.

              "BVR?" you asked.

              "Baby van Riemsdyk." You laughed.

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