Christopher Buckley - Supreme Courtship

“When I first arrived in Washington twenty-three years ago,” he was saying, “this was a very different place from the one it is now…”

Unlike, say, any other place on the planet? Jesus, Dex. Please. Someone-for the love of God-ask a question…

“But whatever Washington has become, I feel-at least, I’d like to be able to feel-that I’ve made some small difference. Some contribution. I believe it was Christopher Wren, the architect of St. Paul ’s Cathedral over there in London…”

“Over there in London ”? Put a sock in it, Dex.

“… whose epitaph reads…”

No, no. Do not compare yourself to the architect of St. Paul ’s Cathedral…

“ ‘If it’s monuments you want, just look around.’ Well,” Dexter continued with transparently insincere self-deprecation, “I certainly don’t merit a marble bust. But I am darn proud to leave behind some solid pieces of legislation. In particular-”

“Senator-?”

Oh, thank you. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart…

Dexter, halted in mid-self-adulation, said with a trace of irritation, “Yes, Judy?”

“What about these reports that you wanted to stay on in the Senate while doing the TV show?”

Fucking Clem.

“Oh… no. No, no. No. I mean, there were-we had-there was… there may have been some very theoretical… discussion. But no. Well, there were those who wanted me to stay on, but-”

“Such as who?”

Dexter laughed. “Well, now, we don’t need to get into all that. Myself, I never thought that was realistic. Being in the Senate is a full-time job. A more than full-time job. Just ask my life’s partner, here. Aack.”

Terry stalwartly grinned. You’re such a dick, Dexter.

“And it’s a full-time honor, let me add. So I… That never really made much sense as an option. Yes, Candy?”

“Is it true you’re getting fifty thousand dollars per episode?”

Fucking Buddy.

“Well now-aack-I don’t-there’s no point in… Someone else is handling all that. But I can tell you this much-on an hourly basis, it pays a little better than the Senate. But let me talk for just a moment here about some of the things I’m proudest of having accomplished during my years in the-”

Someone-please-ask him another question.

“Is it true Ramona Alvilar has been cast to play the First Lady?”

“My understanding,” Dexter said, “is that those negotiations are ongoing. You’d have to ask Buddy Bixby. Of course, from my perspective, it would be wonderful if she were to be my wife.” Dexter stopped and looked over at Terry. “I think I just said the wrong thing.”

Laughter. Terry smiled. “Yes, honey. You did.” You ass.

More laughter.

“But if I might get back to some of the judiciary reform initiatives that I’m proudest of… let me point to the Uniform Appellate Modification Act of-”

“Senator, this presidential one-term limit amendment that just cleared the House and looks to be approved overwhelmingly by the Senate.”

“What about it?”

“How do you feel about it?”

That cocksucker Vanderdamp deserves everything he gets.

“Well, I guess it’s no secret that President Vanderdamp and I have had our differences. Is it fair to punish future presidents because of one disastrous… Well,” Dexter grinned, “I didn’t come here today to criticize the President. I’ll let the historians do that.”

“Will you be voting in favor of the amendment?”

“It has some merit to it, I believe. On the other hand, who knows, I might find myself in a position one day where I’d like to be able to have a second term. Aack.”

Terry looked stricken.

“Are you saying that you plan to run for president again?”

“I…” Dexter looked over at Terry, whose eyes had gone cold as liquid nitrogen. “The only presidency I’m interested in at the moment is Mitchell Lovestorm’s.”

“Who came up with that name, anyway?”

“The name?” Dexter said. “Well… the writers. That’s what they… but it suits me. Yes. It conveys a lot about this President. He’s a strong man, a passionate man, with…”

Terry wondered, He’s already talking about himself in the third person.

“… a man who’s been through the fire, but who has heart. Yes. Lovestorm. A perfect Lovestorm. Ha-ha. Like that movie…”

Dexter looked over at his life’s partner, who was sending him a message that decoded: Wrap it up right now or I will Super-Glue your lips shut tonight while you sleep.

“Thanks for coming,” Dexter said, giving his audience a valedictory salute. “Thank you. This has been a tremendous experience. I like to think that I’m not really leaving you. Just moving to another channel. Don’t forget to tune in Monday nights.”

Pepper was nervous, going into her first conference. Her stomach felt like a butterfly farm.

Justices vote in order of seniority, so she’d go last. As the justices began voting on Swayle, she prayed that there would be a clear majority before it got to her. Not today. The Hardwether Court was as divided as the Korean peninsula. When Crispus cast his vote against, it became 4-4. All eyes were on Pepper.

“Justice Cartwright?” the Chief Justice said gently. He didn’t seem comfortable calling her “Pepper.”

“I…”

She felt sixteen eyeballs boring into her like drills. Paige Plympton had warned Pepper beforehand that Hardwether didn’t go in for lengthy debate in conference. “He runs a pretty swift ship,” she said. This was not a debating society.

Every atom in every fiber of Pepper Cartwright screamed at her to vote against Jimmy James Swayle. Rule in favor of a bank robber who felt aggrieved because his gun didn’t fire? If it had been Courtroom Six, Buddy would have had workmen in building a gallows to hang the sumbitch from before the first commercial break. But it wasn’t Courtroom Six, and she found herself, oddly, thinking that the sumbitch actually had a case on the technicalities of the thing. Awkward, but there it was.

“I… uh…” she stammered, “for the motion.”

“You’re finding in favor?” Hardwether said.

“Uh-huh. Yes.”

Justice Santamaria let out an exhalation that would have billowed the sails of a four-masted schooner. He tossed his pencil onto the conference table with disgust. Paige gave Pepper a look of bemused curiosity.

“It’s just that I thought the South Dakota Supreme Court’s decision in Mortimer v. Great Lakes Suction seemed to… uh, speak to the validity of Swayle’s argument,” Pepper said.

Silence.

“Well,” she added, “it is a bitch, but that’s kind of where I came down.”

Justice Santamaria muttered something that sounded to Pepper like “Jesus wept.” He let out another majestic sigh, leaned back, looked at the ceiling, and rolled his eyes.

Pepper said, “Justice Santamaria, do you have something to say to me? Or are you waiting for one of your clerks to come put drops in your eyes?”

There was a general intake of breath around the table. Santamaria’s head turned toward Pepper like a tank turret swiveling to fire. Before he could get off a round, Chief Justice Hardwether, suppressing a smile, said, “In that case, Justice Cartwright, will you write for the majority?”

Pepper froze. “You want me to write the opinion?”

“If you would.”

“Uh, okay. I mean, yes.”

“Silvio,” Hardwether said, “I assume you’ll handle the dissent.”

Silvio snorted assent.

After the conference, Paige stopped by Pepper’s chambers. “Well,” she said, “you certainly don’t hold back.”

“I shouldn’t have popped off like that. But I couldn’t take any more of that high dudgeon crap from him. His eyeballs were going like tumblers in a Vegas slot machine. And I’m a little tired of him yammering off to the nearest passing reporter about what a featherweight I am.”