No son is.
But he was responsible.
Or at least I had always believed he was.
So when he arrived at my house that Friday morning carrying two little backpacks and wearing the tired smile of a man who had already been awake since dawn, I didn’t think twice when he asked me to keep the twins for the weekend.
“Just two days, Mom.”
He set Ethan’s backpack beside the door.
Emma’s was covered in pink stars.
“What kind of work trip lasts two days?” I asked.
“A boring one.”
“Then why do you look like you haven’t slept?”
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