What Margot hears is the blood roaring in her ears. She didn’t vote for this president. He is a Cook and she is a Drinker, so how can he be calling her right now with this news? With the offer the call implies?
“He says he’s done,” says the president, “and I believe him. And so that means I got a seat on the Supreme Court opening up.”
Margot turns and looks at her husband. He is trying to keep his eyes on the road, but it’s so clear there’s something happening, he keeps turning to look at her.
What? he mouths.
She shakes her head, unable to speak.
“You there, Marjorie?”
“It’s Margot, sir.”
“Ah, shit. I’m an asshole. But they wrote it down wrong.”
“That’s okay, sir. I can be Marjorie if it gets me on the court.”
He laughs, and she feels a thrill of triumph. Sometimes it’s just that simple. You can have all the qualifications in the world, be a paper-lock, but at the end of the day organizations still run on human connection, the feeling of I like this guy.
“Touché,” he says. “And look, I know you’re not the obvious choice for a president of my persuasion, but I’m pushing for unity here, trying to reach across the damn aisle, build a bridge, and all that, so, look. The first step is you come in and meet. When can you get here?”
“Here?”
“To DC. That’s where I live. It’s a white house on Pennsylvania Avenue. Can’t miss it.”
“Yes, sir. I deserve that.”
“Thing is, time is of the essence, as they say. Nobody in this town can keep a secret worth a damn, and when the news breaks I want to be ready with a solution.”
“Is tomorrow okay?” Margot asks. “I flew all this way. I feel like I should at least see my daughter’s face.”
There’s a pause. Margot worries she’s blown it.
“I got seven people shaking their heads at me here,” says the president. “But that’s fine with me. I got daughters myself, younger, but still—if they lived in a different state, well, I’d wanna visit all the time. Go ahead and grab a bite and then catch a flight later tonight. We can meet in the morning. Chuck here’ll reach out in a few minutes to work out the details.”
“Thank you, sir. And should I go ahead and assume I’m not the only judge you’re meeting on this?”
“Yeah, that’s a fair assumption. But it’s a short list, and you’re at the top. So wear your good shoes.”
“I will. Thank you, sir.”
“Don’t thank me yet. Impress me.”
She swallows. The world racing toward her is in Technicolor.
“I’ll try.”
She pushes end. The silence that follows lasts a thousand years.
“Babe?” says Remy.
Margot keeps her eyes forward. There is a pickup truck with a bumper sticker. She focuses on that, because if she turns and looks at her husband or her son, she’s going to start to cry.
“I’m going to be on the Supreme Court,” she says.
*
Remy has his own theory of politics. In his mind the two parties can be broken down into Swimmers and Surfers. The Swimmers are the party of FDR and Obama. The Surfers are the party of Reagan. The Swimmers move in packs through the ocean of history, pulled along by the current. They feel connected to the water, buoyed by their progress, but also vulnerable to the undertow and crushing waves. The Surfers ride on top of the water, choosing their own path. In their minds they are birds, not fish, creatures of the wind. Their progress is not driven by the ocean but by their own muscles and will.
Remy is a Surfer, because who doesn’t want to fly?
Over the last decade, as Judge Burr-Nadir has grown in stature in Surfing circles, Remy too has been busy. His first book on William F. Buckley was respected but not successful. His next, an analysis of why the Party of Swimmers doesn’t actually serve the interest of Black Americans, gained him a recurring slot on Fox & Friends, and entrée into the high-profile world of conservative punditry. One speech he made on the show in 2015 has been viewed on YouTube more than sixteen million times. In it Remy says: “I don’t want to wear four hundred years of history chained to my ankle. It’s time to let go of the past. I am not a slave. My parents are from Trinidad. They were never slaves, and their parents weren’t either. Blacks in America want a clean slate. But the [Swimmer] Party refuses to free us from the chains of slavery, the chains of civil rights. They like us shackled to all the old grievances, because it helps them win elections.”