Letters in Time, Reiss Susan [read me a book TXT] 📗

TJ held up his index finger and said, "Remember, I've heard my mother tell this story so often that I can repeat her version word for word. Elizabeth had hair the color of spun gold. Her complexion was the translucent quality of the finest pearl. She wore a silk gown the color of the pink glow of a sunrise. For Benjamin, the rest of the world faded away. He only saw Elizabeth. He had to quickly find someone to make a proper introduction because that's the way it was done. He wanted to be with her, so she wouldn't become distracted and monopolized by the young officers in uniform and sophisticated gentlemen fluttering around her."

TJ sighed. “I guess he didn’t have to worry. When Elizabeth turned and saw him, it was clear that she too was mesmerized.  There was no one else in the room for her, but Benjamin. The next morning, my great-great-grandparents were shocked to discover that Benjamin had proposed to Elizabeth the night before. I guess that wasn’t done back then. He should have gone through the formal process of courtship, asking her father for permission, then presenting his proposal. Benjamin couldn’t wait. He had met the love of his life and he wanted to spend every minute with her. This created quite a problem for my great-great-grandparents. He had violated social conventions and he was only twenty-two years old. True, he came from a well-to-do family, but men at that time established themselves before they proposed marriage. Benjamin knew that he wanted to spend his days at Waterwood, overseeing the land and he wanted Elizabeth by his side.

"According to the family story, Benjamin made a case to his father that he was born at Waterwood, wanted to raise his family at Waterwood, and wanted to be buried at Waterwood so that his body could nurture the land. He did not want to travel Europe like other young men his age. He wanted to stay at Waterwood with the woman he hoped would be his bride."

I closed my eyes and moaned. “Benjamin sounds like the answer to every woman’s dream of love.” I looked over at TJ and wondered if all the men in his family were like Benjamin. As much as Benjamin appealed to my girly romantic side, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. Better to go to some neutral topic.

“What was his full name? Benjamin F…?”

TJ looked away and closed his eyes. It was clear he didn't want to deal with my question.

“Oh, come on,” I insisted.  “You’ve seen me at my worst, learned some of my deepest, darkest secrets. We’re only talking about a middle initial here.  How bad can that be?”

“Oh, pretty bad,” he said with a sigh. “The F stands for Franklin.”

“Franklin.  That’s nice—” I stopped myself. “Wait a minute. Franklin?  As in the Benjamin Franklin?” TJ nodded with a pained look on his face.

“Is the real Benjamin Franklin on your family tree?”

TJ shook his head and groaned. “Now, you know our family secret. We like to honor notable people we respect by naming our kin after them. It started a long, long time ago.” He held up both hands. “I’m not responsible.”

I sat up like a shot and paid for the quick movement with a cramp in my leg. "Wait! You go by your initials. If it's a family tradition, then your name must be…"

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“Child of a frog is a frog.”

— Japanese Proverb

It didn't take me long to figure out my new friend's name. "TJ? TJ! Your name must be Thomas Jefferson Ross."

“You got it right in one,” he murmured. “I didn’t grow up here, only visited during the summers. People know me as TJ, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t spread it around.”

I was so surprised that my words tumbled out in a mess. "Oh wow, oh wow! Your name is Thomas Jefferson Ross! I didn't think anyone did that anymore. Now, I thought people only made up names that were hard to pronounce or gave boys' names to girls."

“The Ross family is old-school traditional. Why do you think I go by TJ?”

I stopped for a minute and realized I had offended him by making fun. He didn’t deserve it. “Come on, you’re named after one of the most important men in American history.” I held my arms straight out from my body to emphasize my question. “How can you not be proud of that? It’s an honor your family bestowed on you.” Then I shrugged. “But with the name comes responsibility and pretty high expectations for anyone to meet.”

"I know, I know. My dad told me that was the reason the family created the tradition. Every firstborn son is given the name of a famous person, a hero. That way, if the kid ever falters, ever second-guesses himself, he'll remember what the family expects of him and what he should expect of himself."

“That’s incredible.” I felt a stab of jealousy. I didn’t know of any woman in history named Emma who was notable. Of course, there was Emma Thompson, a creative movie actor, writer, and producer. Not bad, but not exactly on a level of Thomas Jefferson or Benjamin Franklin.

“Yep, it’s a solid concept, but not easy for a teenage boy to manage when he’s having trouble fitting in. When I was growing up, I was a klutz. I was always the last one left on the bench, the last player picked for a team. My grades were okay, but nothing that would make you stand up and cheer."

He looked out the window and continued quietly.