Taylor

I behave like a perfect patient, and the doctor releases me on Sunday afternoon. As we round the corner, Jackson’s home comes into view. A large sign with balloons attached graces the front lawn, welcoming Carter and Kennedy home.

“No, no, no,” Jackson chants. “I told Madison not to tell the neighbors. I can’t handle a party. This is not a time to party.”

It might be easy to let his words upset me. The twins are to be celebrated. They are tiny, precious, ...