My father, Robert, had already claimed his spot in his ancient recliner, pretending to read the newspaper but actually dozing off behind it. Classic dad move.

When Garrett and Jessica had walked through that door at 8:00 a.m. sharp, I knew something was wrong. Garrett looked exhausted, defeated even. He kept shooting apologetic glances my way, as if trying to warn me. Jessica headed straight for the couch without saying hello to anyone, not even the kids.