Prescott Family Tension
The park bench was shaded by an old oak tree, the late afternoon light filtering through the leaves in soft patches.
Emery sat with a small container of olives in her lap, one of her latest salty cravings, popping them into her mouth one by one.
Jesse sat beside her, keeping a respectful distance, but his presence felt steady and protective.
He watched her for a moment, the way her hand rested lightly on her growing bump, before speaking quietly.
“Emery… I’ve been thinking. Should I tell Alexander everything? About us. About the baby being mine. I hate keeping this from him. It feels wrong.”
Emery paused mid-bite, an olive halfway to her mouth. She lowered her hand slowly and looked at him, her stormy eyes tired but resolute.
“No,” she said softly but firmly. “I’m not ready yet. It’s too soon. Everything is already so complicated. I need more time to figure out how to do this without it blowing up in all our faces.”
Jesse nodded, accepting her answer without argument. He leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees, his voice lowering with concern.
“Alright. I won’t push. But… I’ve noticed something. Alexander has been very rude to you lately. Cold. Distant. It’s not like him. At least not the way he used to be with you in the early days of the marriage. Did something happen?”
Emery popped another olive into her mouth, chewing slowly as she considered her words.
“He has been… different. He barely talks to me. When he does, it’s short, almost dismissive.
Like I’m an inconvenience. I asked him if I did something to offend him, but he just spoke in riddles.
Said something about people ‘positioning themselves’ and ‘convenient decisions.’ I don’t understand what he means. ”
Jesse’s brow furrowed. He was intelligent. He connected the dots quickly, the pieces falling into place with sharp clarity. His expression darkened.
“Camilla,” he said, voice low and certain.
“She’s been coming to his office. I saw her there once.
She was leaving when I walked in. She looked…
comfortable. Too comfortable. There’s something going on between them.
I don’t know what exactly, but she’s trying to get close to him again. Trying to get him back.”
Emery’s hand paused, the olive forgotten between her fingers. She stared at the ground, the ache in her chest sharpening.
“I thought so,” she whispered. “The way he’s been acting… it started after he came back from Ohio. And the way Camilla looked at him at the hospital… it makes sense. She wants him back. And he’s letting her in.”
Jesse’s jaw tightened, but he kept his tone measured. “We don’t know the full story. But it feels like she’s worming her way back into his life. Manipulating the situation.”
Emery nodded slowly, her voice quiet but laced with quiet pain. “And now he’s pulling away from me. From the baby. From everything we’re supposed to be building, even if it’s fake. It hurts… but I’m not surprised.”
Jesse turned to her, his eyes filled with regret and protectiveness. “I’m sorry. I wish I could fix this. But I’m here. Whatever you need... whether it’s to talk, or to stay silent, or to just sit here eating olives, I’m here.”
Emery looked at him for a long moment, then gave a small, tired nod. She popped the olive into her mouth and chewed slowly, the salty taste grounding her.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
They sat in silence for a while longer, the park around them peaceful while the storm inside both of them continued to brew.
×××××××
The garden was peaceful in the late morning, sunlight filtering through the trees and casting dappled shadows on the winding path.
Emery walked slowly beside Grandpa Prescott, her arm linked gently through his for support. At seventeen weeks, her bump was now clearly visible beneath her loose cream blouse, and she moved with careful steps, one hand occasionally resting on her lower back.
Grandpa Prescott leaned lightly on her, but his voice was warm and gentle as always when he spoke to her.
“Thank you for helping me with my medicines this morning, dear,” he said, patting her hand. “You always do it so patiently. Not many young people have that kind of kindness anymore.”
Emery smiled softly, her eyes warm. “It’s no trouble at all, Grandpa. I’m happy to help.”
They walked a few more steps in comfortable silence before Grandpa’s face lit up with excitement.
“And how is my great-grandchild doing today?” he asked, glancing at her bump with obvious delight. “Growing strong, I hope?”
Emery’s hand moved instinctively to her belly, a small, genuine smile touching her lips. “The doctor says everything is healthy. The baby is active. I felt a strong flutter yesterday. It’s… still strange sometimes, but it makes me happy.”
Grandpa chuckled, the sound warm and full of affection. “That’s wonderful. A new life in this family is exactly what we need. You know, when the four siblings were born, it was quite the adventure.”
Emery looked at him curiously. “Really? How were they as babies?”
Grandpa’s eyes twinkled as he reminisced, his steps slow but steady with her support.
“Alexander was the calm first-born,” he said fondly. “Quiet, observant, even as an infant. He rarely cried. He’d just watch the world with those serious eyes, like he was already thinking about how everything worked. Rebecca used to say he was born with the soul of an old man.”
Emery smiled. “That sounds like him.”
“Harper was the complete opposite,” Grandpa continued with a chuckle. “Very moody. She’d keep Rebecca up all night with her crying. One minute she was smiling, the next she was screaming like the world was ending. She had strong opinions from the very beginning.”
Emery laughed softly. “I can imagine that.”
Grandpa’s voice grew even warmer when he spoke of the twins.
“Then came Jesse and Ivy. They arrived together and they were the chaotic ones from day one. Jesse was the loudest, always demanding attention, crawling everywhere the moment he could move. Ivy was right behind him, getting into just as much trouble. They’d team up to cause mischief.
Jesse especially... he was so full of energy, always climbing on things, always trying to keep up with his older brother and sister. ”
He paused, a fond smile spreading across his face. “I adored Jesse the most, I must admit. He reminded me so much of myself when I was young... stubborn, protective of the people he loved, always trying to carry the weight of the family even when he was small.”
Emery tilted her head, curious. “Why did he remind you of yourself?”
Grandpa chuckled again, the sound rich and nostalgic.
“Because he was the one who always wanted to fix things. Even as a little boy, if someone was sad or hurt, he’d try to make it better.
He’d bring me his favorite toy if I looked tired.
He’d stand up to Harper when she was being bossy.
He had a big heart, even when he was being loud and chaotic.
I see that same heart in him now... even if he tries to hide it behind that brooding exterior. ”
Emery’s expression softened, but a quiet ache settled in her chest. She thought of the man whose child she carried, the same little boy who used to cling to his father in those old photos Ivy had shown her.
She spoke gently. “I’ve heard Jesse talk to you rudely a few times.”
Grandpa Prescott chuckled again, the sound warm and unbothered.
“He’s just annoyed that I’m the patriarch and I don’t say a word in the home politics.
He doesn’t like that Rebecca has been given full charge.
But Emery, dear, I’m an old man. I’ve taken care of this family since I was twenty. I deserve a break, don’t you think?”
Emery nodded, a small smile returning to her lips. “You do. You’ve done enough.”
They continued walking slowly along the path, Grandpa’s arm linked with hers, the gentle rhythm of their steps comforting. For a little while, the weight of the complicated world outside felt lighter.
Grandpa glanced at her bump again, his voice full of quiet hope.
“This baby is going to be very lucky to have you as a mother, Emery. Never doubt that.”
Emery’s eyes glistened, but she smiled through it, holding onto his arm a little tighter.
“Thank you, Grandpa.”
×××××××
Rebecca stood in the living room, arms crossed, her eyes glistening with frustrated tears as she faced Alexander. The late afternoon light cast long shadows across the black leather couches and marble floors.
“She was at the gate this morning,” Rebecca said, voice trembling with anger and hurt. “And Jesse told her to turn back! Tell him not to do this. She’s my daughter and this is her father’s home. Jesse cannot stop her from coming here.”
Alexander exhaled slowly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He was still in his work shirt, tie loosened after a long day. “I’ll talk to him.”
“You should!” Rebecca’s voice rose, the tears making her eyes shine brighter. “He calls Percy and says God knows what to him that Percy has arguments with Harper every day! He stops her from coming here! This is too much! She’s my daughter! His sister! I miss Kitty too. My poor girls…”
Alexander nodded once, his calm expression showing the strain of mediating yet another family conflict. “I’ll handle it.”
He called out, voice carrying through the house. “Jesse?”
A couple of minutes later, Jesse walked into the living room, still in his dress shirt from the office, sleeves rolled up. His dark brown eyes flicked between his mother and brother, sensing the tension immediately.
Alexander didn’t waste time. “You won’t stop Harper from coming here again.”
Jesse’s jaw tightened. “That is only if she doesn’t mess with Emery. She slapped her. She burned her hand with an iron. She treats her like a servant and humiliates her every chance she gets. I’m not letting that continue.”
Rebecca’s eyes flashed with fresh anger, tears spilling over. “Why do you care about her so much? She’s just the replacement. She’s carrying your brother’s child, not yours. Why are you defending her like she’s your responsibility?”
Jesse met his mother’s gaze without flinching, his voice steady but laced with quiet intensity.
“Because she’s innocent,” he said simply.
“She was forced into this marriage the same day Camilla ran away. She’s doing everything she can to survive in a house that’s never welcomed her.
She’s pregnant and exhausted and still trying to be kind to all of us.
Harper has no right to treat her like that. None of us do.”
Rebecca opened her mouth to argue, but Alexander raised a hand, his tone firm but tired.
“Enough. Jesse, Harper is still family. She can visit. If she crosses the line again, I’ll handle it myself.”
Jesse nodded once, but his eyes remained hard. “Fine. But if Harper hurts her again, physically or otherwise, I won’t stand by and watch. She’s carrying a child. Our family’s child. She deserves better than this.”
Rebecca wiped her tears angrily, muttering under her breath about her “poor girls,” but she didn’t push further.
Alexander exhaled again, the weight of mediating yet another conflict clear on his face. “That’s settled then.”
Jesse turned and walked out of the living room without another word, the tension lingering in the air like smoke.
The house felt heavier than ever.
×××××××