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Bentley Benedict Banks is a surprise baby courtesy of our honeymoon. We talked about kids, but I wanted to pursue my career in journalism before taking on the responsibility of a child. So, just before our wedding, I lined up an interview with a reputable magazine in London.
But I guess life had other plans.
Two blue lines changed everything.
The moment we announced I was pregnant, Benedict’s mother, Rosemarie, insisted I stay home and start preparing for my role. In ways, it made sense until I found out I wouldn’t be alone.
Rosemarie hired Eliza to be Bentley’s full-time nanny. At the time, he wasn’t even born. Yet they planned out everything, despite my arguing I could raise my son without hired help. But according to Rosemarie, this isn’t the Banks way. Nannies raised Benedict and his two brothers, and according to her, it’s important for a wife to complete her role and not get caught up in tedious tasks like changing diapers.
I argued until I was blue in the face, causing a lot of tension between Benedict and me. On top of adjusting to being married, we were dealing with trying to figure out how to be parents. However, once again, his mother’s word held weight, something which is happening more often of late.
Extending out my arms, I reach out for my son. “Come here, beautiful boy.”
Bentley’s deep hazel eyes light up with his curly hair brushed perfectly to the side. I run my hands over it, wishing to grow it out into ringlets so I can tie it in a man bun. Rosemarie would have a coronary.
“Are you ready to have lunch with Grandpa and Nanna Kate?”
His chubby little hand touches my face, and I grab it, then blow raspberry kisses to make him laugh. My heart does a joyous song and dance at the sound of his infectious laughter, a simple thing making life all the more beautiful.
With Bentley in my arms, dressed in his cute little sailor onesie, we walk through the main foyer to the back patio, where the housekeeper has set up a table for lunch. The spot has the most glorious view of the gardens and the rolling green hills in the distance. It’s a picturesque view I’ve become fond of while sitting outside in solitude, enjoying a coffee.
The English countryside is beautiful, and although we reside in this home, we also have a flat in London which Benedict uses during the week to make the commute easier for work.
Above us, the blue sky weaves in and out of the hovering clouds. The air is cool as we begin the fall season, though the English prefer to call it autumn. I choose to wear a white blazer over the blush-colored tunic dress underneath, matching the outfit with stylish tan pumps.
Behind me, someone clears their throat. I turn around to see our housekeeper, Lucy.
“Mrs. Banks, your father and stepmother are here.”
The word stepmother is so formal as I often introduce Kate as my mom, even though we’re more like sisters at times.
“Please welcome them in,” I tell her.
Moments later, Dad and Kate walk through the back patio doors. Kate extends her arms with a beaming smile, looking as beautiful as ever. Her blonde hair is cut into a short bob sitting just below her chin. My eyes are drawn to the white pantsuit with oversized gold buttons. Beneath the jacket, her royal blue blouse is barely visible, only her cleavage, which is full and perky considering she’s not exactly twenty-one anymore.
“Jessa,” she calls, then pulls me into an embrace. “Oh, how I’ve missed you.”
Trying not to squash Bentley, I pull back for her to scoop him up in her arms and make all these cooing sounds. A smile falls upon my lips as I watch them, wishing we lived closer so they could spend more time together—the only drawback of living so far away.
Taking a deep breath, the air thickens as I turn to face Dad, who’s keeping his distance.
Growing up with Noah Mason as your father wasn’t as easy as some may think. Much like my cousins—Millie, Ava, Addy, and Alexa—an incredibly wealthy and supposedly handsome father came with challenges. People treated us differently because our fathers held power, and they were known to be ruthless in the corporate world, which is why they got to where they are.
But at home, surrounded by family, my fatherwasa kind and loving man.
He supported my decisions for most of my life, and I’ve rarely felt trapped by his stubborn ways. Dad never questioned my college choice or my career. Instead, he encouraged me to spread my wings when it came to moving out. Overall, we had a great relationship until I met Benedict.
The thing is, I’ve had boyfriends, though nothing serious.
And the moment I announced my engagement to Benedict, Dad completely changed. He became cold and distanced himself. He wasn’t happy, that much I knew, especially because I was moving to England permanently.
I’m surprised he walked me down the aisle because he had refused initially, and so Uncle Lex was asked, but at the last minute, Dad came around. I’m not sure whether it was Kate or Aunt Charlie’s influence. Either way, it made the day complete.
Since then, our relationship has been strained.
Not wanting to feed into his stubborn persona, I stretch out my arms and go in for a quick hug in which he doesn’t linger.
“Nice to see you, Dad,” is all I say.
