Your Time

Chapter 1

"Carrie," he whispered, seeing her wide awake, facing him.

"Yeah Harrison?"

He groaned, rolling onto his chest. "Is it your shoulder?"

"Yeah," he answered quietly.

Carrie sat up, placing a hand on his back. "You should really get this looked at."

"I can't get it looked at now," he protested. "We're in a playoff run."

"But if you don't get it looked at now, you could risk it later in life."

"I know the risk Carrie. It's the risk I take every day, stepping onto that field."

"You don't get it do you? The longer you let this go, the more it will impact you. You said it yourself it might be your rotator cuff. What to you think our kids will say if their father can't throw a football anymore."

"Maybe you don't get it! Don't you understand I want to play? This could be my chance at a fourth Super Bowl!"

The argument was beginning to get heated now. Both of them were raising their voices. "You're so stubborn sometimes."

"Excuse me?"

It was Carrie's turn. "I'm not stupid! I know you love the game, and I know you want to win. And over the last 13 years I've continued to countlessly support you. And so have your kids. But please get this checked out. I don't know what'd I do if you got hurt again..."

"Carrie I'm not going to get hurt again. I can protect myself."

She rolled her eyes. "No you can't. There's no protecting yourself in football. You're going to land on it, or take a hit, and it's going to make it worse."

"Whatever Carrie."

Carrie got out of bed and headed downstairs. Before opening their door, she turned to face him. "Well I'm sorry for tying to look out for you!" She yelled before slamming the door behind her.

"I'm sorry," he said to the closed door.

•••

She avoided him the entire morning, not even making him breakfast like she did for the kids. As he walked past the kitchen table into the living room, she glared at him.

Harrison simply pretended he didn't see the glare and continued into the living room with breakfast. "Mom when are we leaving?"

Carrie sighed. "Well grandma and grandpa are coming to get you three at 2:30."

"What about you mommy?"

"I'm probably going to do some shopping."

"You're not going?"

She shook her head. "Probably not."

"But don't you go to every one of dad's games?"

Carrie went back into the kitchen, ignoring Adam's question. The answer was yes. But that streak was going to end today. She came back with a plate of French toast, cut up into very small squares for Billie.

In the living room, Harrison could hear everything said in the kitchen. She really wasn't coming? He asked himself. He must've pissed her off a lot.

He tried to reassure himself. It's a playoff game. She hasn't missed a game for the world. But there was still doubt when he heard her say she would rather go shopping.

"Mommy can we go play outside?"

"Yeah sweetie, you and Adam can go play. I'll be out after I clean your sister up."

She carried Billie into the bathroom. Setting her on the counter, she wiped off syrup and powdered sugar. Little Billie reached her small hand out, touching her mommy's face. "How's my little girl?"

Billie smiled, holding her hands to her face. "What? What do you have to say to mommy?"

Carrie tickled her daughters sides, getting a laugh. "You're too cute," she whispered, kissing her forehead.

Billie took that opportunity to touch her hair with her sticky fingers. "Oh Billie," her mommy mumbled, sticking the washcloth under the running water and beginning to clean the syrup out of her hair.

After five minutes, she finished. And to help prevent her from sticking something else in her hair, Carrie pulled her light brown hair back in pigtails. "Little country girl."

•••

That afternoon, Harrison pulled his navy blue jersey over his head. Just putting on a jersey was enough to make his shoulder hurt. He realized then Carrie was right. He was going to end up hurting it worse if he didn't get it checked soon.

Being the last one in the locker room, he dug out his phone and called Carrie. "Sweetheart, please pick up," he muttered into the phone.

Carrie didn't. The call only went two rings before it stopped, meaning she declined his call. Looking over his shoulder to make sure no one was coming, he texted her. It wasn't long before the delivered message turned to read. And she didn't reply.

"Carrie please..."

But she didn't text him or call him back. Sighing, he grabbed his helmet and ran out of the locker room.

During warmups and the coin toss, he constantly looked behind the Cowboys bench for his wife. But she wasn't among his parents and three children.

The entire first quarter he could tell his head wasn't in the game, his thoughts dwelled on Carrie. He missed an easy interception and he'd gotten juked out by the other teams running back, twice. And that never happened. Harrison was always one to anticipate the juke and stop it.

Jogging over to the sidelines following the end of the first quarter, he saw Carrie sitting beside Adam. She'd come!

The actual bench was close enough to the first row of seats that he could talk to her, Adam, Emma, or Billie. "Carrie, I'm-"

She held up a hand. "We'll talk about that later. Kick some ass for me Harrison."

Harrison kicked ass for her. He set the tackles record for a playoff game, as well as forcing a fumble. But even with the great game, his shoulder continued to hurt during and after the game. Finding Carrie and the kids waiting outside the locker room, he kissed her gently.

"I thought you weren't coming."

"I couldn't miss it, even if I was mad at you."

"I'll be home in a little bit. I'm going to go talk to the training staff."

"Okay."

•••

Harrison got home an hour later. Carrie already had the kids in bed and was in room. He closed the door behind him. "I'm sorry about earlier."

"I know, and I am too."

He slowly pulled off his shirt to reveal blue athletic tape on his right shoulder. "What'd the trainer say?"

"He said it could be my rotator cuff, but it also could be a strained subscapularis. He also recommended I go on the IR."

"Injured reserve?"

Harrison nodded. "And I should probably go see a specialist tomorrow."

"Okay."

He slid over towards her. She threw her arm across his chest and rested her head on his good shoulder. "Love you."

"Love you too."