Dirty Blonde

nearly enough. She reached the door, braced herself, and opened it.

The two clerks, clustered at Val’s desk, sprang apart, their heads snapping up, surprised at her early arrival. They had obviously been talking about her, she could smell it in the air, and Val, at her desk, looked stiff and miserable, her expression grim. The chambers fell stone-silent except for the rain lashing the window, and nobody said a word as Cate walked in, shed her coat and hung it up, slid off her sunglasses, and walked to Val’s desk.

“Good morning, everyone.” Cate kept her face a professional mask and avoided their eyes, as they all said their good-morning-judges. “The bodyguard isn’t due in until eight-thirty.”

Val handed her her mail and phone messages over the low divider, her tone cool. “Chief Judge Sherman wants to see you when he gets off the bench. He thinks that will be around one o’clock. The press has been calling, but I said we have no comment. You’re in court at eleven, for the plea agreement we rescheduled.”

“Thanks.” Cate flipped through the messages for Graham’s name, but he hadn’t called. It was early anyway. She looked up at the clerks. “Who has the plea today? Remind me.”

“It’s my case.” Sam raised his hand. “The bench memo’s on your chair.”

“Thanks. Come in at ten-fifteen and we’ll talk about it.”

“It’s only a guilty plea, Judge. It won’t take that long.”

“I want to be fully prepared today. Things didn’t go so well yesterday, as you know.” Cate turned toward her office, then stopped in surprise at the sight. The room had been completely put back together, even neater than before it had been ransacked. Case files stood up in order on the conference table; legal pads sat stacked next to a lineup of blue and red briefs. Books had been restored to the bookshelves, and her desktop straightened up, with Graham’s bouquet of red roses given a place of honor. It must have been so much work. Cate felt a wrench inside at the kindness of the gesture.

“The clerks stayed late last night and cleaned up, all by themselves,” Val said, and Cate turned to the clerks with a smile, dropping her mask. She was getting tired of so many masks, all the time. They never fit right and you couldn’t breathe, like a kid at Halloween.

“Thank you so much, both of you.” Cate smiled. “That was a lovely thing to do, and I really appreciate it.”

“We organized it, too,” Emily said, beaming.

Sam nodded. “It was Emily’s idea and she did most of the work. She thought it might cheer you up, after you screwed up in court.”

“Sam!” Val said, frowning. “Mind your manners!”

“Sam!” Emily snapped. “What are you, an idiot?”

“She said it first,” Sam shot back, and Cate held up a hand, laughing.

“It’s okay, everybody, I did screw up in court. It’s still very nice that you two cleaned and organized my office.” Cate turned to go, then turned back. “Listen, I know you saw the newspaper, and I know it’s awful. I wish I could tell you that it’s not true, the part about my private life, but it is.” All three listened with somber expressions, with Val at the desk and the two law clerks behind her, like a frieze of federal employees. “I have nothing to say for myself, except that I’m very sorry for my behavior. I know you thought better of me.”

“I don’t think what you did is so terrible,” Emily rushed to say, her voice thin with anxiety. “You’re not married, and they would never be making this fuss if you were a man.”

“Yeah, it’s cool,” Sam added, then he caught himself. “I mean, what you do out of court is nobody’s business, and it doesn’t belong in the newspaper. They should be writing about the war in Iraq or global warming. Not your personal life.”

“Thank you,” Cate said, meaning it, and they all pretended not to notice that Val hadn’t chimed in. The secretary looked down, showing her graying strands of hair at her temple. She wore a blue-patterned dress and her gold crucifix peeked from her neckline.

Cate asked, “Val, would you come into my nice, clean office?”

“Yes, Judge.” Val picked up a pad, and Cate went inside with her mail, messages, and purse, and set all of it down. By the time she’d turned around, Val had taken her customary seat across from the desk, with her pen poised over her paper.

“This isn’t business, Val.”

Val set the pen on the pad stiffly.

Cate sighed. “I know what I did was wrong, and I know what you must think.”

“I don’t think you do, Judge.”

“You’re surprised.”

“That I am, yes. I am surprised.”

“And you’re disgusted with me, and you should be.”

“No, that’s not it.” Val shook her head sadly. “I feel sorry for you. I feel sorry that you think so little of yourself.”

Cate felt the words like a slap to the face, though she knew they weren’t intended that way.

“I feel sorry that you respected yourself so little, and respected your body and your heart so little, as to do…the things you did. When I saw that story this morning, I prayed for you.”

Cate didn’t know what to say, and Val rose slowly and looked at her with newly shining eyes.

“It’ll be a struggle around here, with the other judges, for you. There’ll be jokes, and people will talk. Especially if they do that TV show.” Val stood up and stepped close to Cate, placing a soft hand on her shoulder. “When that happens, tell yourself that none of it matters. None of it. That’s all outside, and nothing that’s outside matters. Not the other judges or the TV or the gossips. Nothing matters but what’s in your heart. Don’t think on what they say, because you don’t have to get yourself right with them. You have to get yourself right with you.”

Cate felt moved by her words and the emotions that gave them life. The only person who had ever made so much sense to her was her mother.

“When you get yourself right with you, then you can hold your head high. Now gimme a hug.” Val threw her arms open and embraced Cate, who hugged her back, taking surprising comfort in her powdery smells, despite the fact that she was supposed to be a grownup, a judge, and a boss besides. The phone started ringing, and Val released her. “I’ll get it,” she said. “You get back to work and don’t think on it.”

“Thanks,” Cate said, returning to her desk as Val picked up the phone.

“Judge Fante’s chambers,” she said, and after a minute, “Please hold and I’ll see if she’s available.” She pressed the HOLD button, and Cate looked up. “Judge Menking, for you. Will you pick up?”

“Sure.”

Val pointed a warning finger at her. “Remember what I said. Inside, outside.”

“Inside, outside,” Cate repeated, like a little mantra, accepted the receiver, and pressed the button to take the call. “Bonner?”

“Cate! My God in heaven, have you seen this trash? The Inquirer is out to get you. Where are they getting this? This is defamatory. You have to sue them, Cate.”

Val hustled out of the office, diplomatically closing the door behind her.

“Truth is an absolute defense, Bonner.”

“You did all this? You? You?”

“Yes. I take full responsibility. I did it.”

“What?”

Cate felt her cheeks get hot. “I did it.”

“You couldn’t have!”

Actually, I can’t believe it, either. “But I did. I’m not proud of it, but I did it, and it’s over.”

“My God, Cate. What were you thinking? It’s so…common.”

“It’s over, Bonner, that’s all I can say. That, and I’m sorry.”

Ring ring! Cate’s other phone line started ringing, but she let Val get it.

“But, Cate, this is an insult to the court. We can’t have this, a judge of our court. They’re saying on the Internet that another man came forward! He’s blogging about you right this moment. My clerks found the webpage.”

Oh God. “There’s nothing I can do, Bonner.”