Elin Hilderbrand - 28 Summers

The country is divided: Team Stone and Team Eve.

Jake is Team Eve.

“The guy definitely did it,” he says.

They’re in the kitchen, breakfast time. Jake is making Bess an omelet that she will devour without hesitation. She is wonderfully unselfconscious around food, which Ursula is happy about but also jealous of.

“Agreeing with Dad,” Bess says.

Ursula says nothing. She supposes families all over the country are discussing this very same issue and picking sides, but most of those families do not include a U.S. senator who will be voting on whether or not to confirm the accused to the Supreme Court.

“I have to stay neutral,” she says.

“Oh, come on, Ursula,” Jake says. “You can’t tell me you think he’s innocent?”

“He’s a good judge,” Ursula says. “Smart. His decisions are thoughtful and nuanced. He would be a wonderful addition to the bench.”

“He attacked a girl,” Bess says. “He tried to rape her. You can’t just overlook that because you happen to like the way he adjudicates, Mom, sorry.”

“Allegedly attacked her,” Ursula says. “I don’t think we have enough proof to convict.” She smiles at her daughter. “Sorry.”

Three days later, a second woman comes forward. This woman, Meghan Royce, is a public defender in Broward County, Florida. She says she met Stone Cavendish at a New Year’s Eve party in Miami in 1991. The party was held in a condo in a luxury waterfront building. Royce and Stone struck up a conversation on the balcony, then moved inside to one of the sofas amid the crowd of noisy revelers. Both of them were drinking. Stone eventually suggested they go “somewhere quieter,” so he led Royce back into one of the bedrooms. They started kissing. Royce says that after a little while, Stone worried someone else would come into the room so he suggested they go into the closet. Royce says she agreed, but that once she was in the closet with Cavendish, she started to feel “claustrophobic and uncomfortable.” She tried to leave; she explicitly told Stone she wanted to “get out,” but he laughed and pushed her farther into the closet, back into the hanging clothes. Royce raised her voice, and Stone clapped a hand over her mouth, saying, Just be quiet, we both know why we’re here. Royce says she finally kicked him in the crotch hard enough that he called her a psycho and spit in her face, but he let her go. She left the party almost immediately, but before she left, she told her girlfriend what happened; she says she categorized it as “some guy just tried to date-rape me in the closet,” to which her friend responded, “Thank God you got out, though it’s too bad you’re going to miss midnight.”

That’s the way things were in the early ’90’s, Royce says. I didn’t realize how bad it was until years later.

Stone Cavendish claims he has no memory of meeting Royce. He admits to being in Miami over New Year’s of 1991 with his friend Doug Stiles, but according to Cavendish, they had dinner at a restaurant, then went to a few clubs. He doesn’t remember a party. The girlfriend Royce spoke to about it, Justine Hwang, is an expat living in Mongolia and can’t immediately be reached for comment. No one knows where to find Doug Stiles.

The media does a hit job on Meghan Royce. She’s twice divorced and lost custody of her only son to her ex-husband, who lives in Tampa. The ex-husband, when questioned, said that Meghan has a drinking problem.

Meghan Royce hires an attorney, and she points out Royce’s impeccable record as a public defender; she’s never missed a day of work and routinely goes to the mat for defendants who have no other champion. She adds that Royce’s personal life has no bearing on her memories of what happened between her and Stone Cavendish on New Year’s Eve 1991. He pushed her farther into the closet when she asked to get out. He clapped his hand over her mouth. She had to kick him to escape.

The FBI investigates this second claim and manages to reach Justine Hwang in Mongolia, who makes a statement that she does recall the night in question and she does remember Meghan Royce saying that someone forced her into a closet and that she fought her way out. Justine Hwang can’t say for certain that this person was Stone Cavendish. She never met the guy that Meghan was talking to, that party was crowded, and she has no recollection at this point of the address of the party or how they ended up there. Word of mouth, she assumes.

Stone Cavendish’s spokesperson says that clearly Meghan Royce had been drinking and while something might very well have happened to her at the party she went to, she is mistaken about the identity of the man because it was not Stone Cavendish.

“She probably heard the other accuser’s story and decided to try for her fifteen minutes of fame.”

Bess is outraged. “I hope you see what’s happening here, Mom. They’re shaming these women and they’re trying to say that just because a woman has lost custody of her son, she’s not credible. It’s disgusting. The two stories are pretty similar, and the first story has a corroborating witness who remembers seeing Stone Cavendish follow Eve into the dunes and seeing Eve emerge alone. What other proof do you need? People are saying, ‘Oh, Cindy is bitter because Stone ditched her for another girl and now she’s getting back at him.’ Getting back at him thirty-five years later? What’s so hard to believe about a woman just remembering what happened and speaking up?” Bess pauses to catch her breath. “You know he did it, Mom.”

“There wouldn’t be enough to convict him in a court of law,” Ursula says.

“Mom.”

Ursula sighs. Frankly, she would like to see Cavendish own up to the allegations—or at least admit the possibility that these women might be right even if it’s so long ago he doesn’t remember—and apologize. How refreshing would it be for someone in power to just admit to wrongdoing instead of unequivocally denying it? Stone could say he was forceful with women, that he was—just say it— abusive, that he was intoxicated and thoughtless, and that he felt invincible and entitled, like so many privileged white males do. And then he could say that he’s sorry now. He wishes he could go back to his younger self and give him a thrashing. He has learned so much in the past thirty years. He has grown up.

Ursula could write the statement for him. This will work! she wants to say. But Kevin Blackstone Cavendish remains in deny-deny-deny mode. He digs in. His team collects statements from eighty-four female attorneys that he’s worked with over the past three decades vouching for his integrity, his character, his manners. They get letters from his priests, from his neighbors, from his teachers and classmates.

The FBI concludes its investigation.

The night before the confirmation hearing, Ursula receives a phone call from Bayer Burkhart.

“Take it easy on him in the hearing, please,” Bayer says. “This is the guy we want. He’s centrist, speaks for the majority of normal working Americans. Throw him some softballs, please, Ursula. You’ll be rewarded.”

You’ll be rewarded . What Bayer means is that he and his billionaire friends will back Ursula for president in 2020. Until recently, there was talk of running Vincent Stengel for president with Ursula as VP. But the country is ready for a female president; hungry for one, even.

Isn’t that what Ursula wants? Isn’t that what she has always wanted?

And isn’t it true that Kevin Blackstone Cavendish would make an excellent Supreme Court justice? Doesn’t America deserve an end to partisan politics? Can’t they compromise on issues while preserving the central tenets of freedom, equality, and justice for all? Isn’t it time to usher in an era of reason and enlightenment?