The corners of the Minority Leader’s lips turned upward. “Modesty. I like that. And I don’t get to see it much in this town. Made up your mind yet?”
“You and Christina. To which of my many undecided decisions do you refer?”
“Thaddeus Roush.”
“Oh. Well…I’m torn.”
Hammond leaned back and rested his head against his hands. “Between what and what?”
“Between a gut instinct that the time for a gay Supreme Court justice has come and might do the country a lot of good, and my realization that gay or not, if he was nominated by this oh-so-Republican President, he must be evil.”
Hammond grinned. “I told you yesterday, Ben—he’s a lot more to the center than you might expect. We could do a lot worse.”
“We could do a lot better.”
“Not with this President.”
Ben frowned. Good point. “Did you know he was gay? Yesterday, I mean.”
“I did not.”
“Did the President?”
“No way. Oh, they might’ve had some intimation. The man is in his late forties, never married, has a male roommate, that sort of thing. But it wouldn’t have been a problem, even for the Republicans, as long as he stayed in the closet. There are a lot of gay people in this town, Ben. We’ve known that ever since Gerry Studds became the first openly gay congressman back in 1983. No one cared about Mark Foley—till his suggestive electronic messages to congressional pages started surfacing. You’ve seen The List—the unofficial roster of gay congressional staff members. Even the Republicans have them. We call them the Pink Elephants. As long as they keep their private lives to themselves, no one much cares. Try to make a fuss about it and you get labeled homophobic. Hell, people were speculating that Justice Souter was gay when he was nominated to the Supreme Court—the man lived with his mother, for Pete’s sake. But that didn’t stop Bush the First from nominating him. Long as it’s not in the public eye, it’s not a problem.”
“But now it is in the public eye. And there’s no taking it back. Will President Blake stand behind him?”
“Well, he can’t exactly withdraw the nomination, can he? That would be too blatantly anti-gay even for that rascal. Especially after that swell speech he gave yesterday saying what a brilliant legal mind Roush has, and how he’ll be a crusader for truth, justice, and the American Way. But the inside skinny is that Blake feels hoodwinked, and frankly, I can see the man’s point. Word is he wants the nomination to fail so he can appoint someone else quickly, before his second term expires, but he doesn’t want to be the hatchet man. He’s counting on the Judiciary Committee to do that for him. The Constitution gives them the right to advise and consent. So the Republicans are most likely hard at work searching for some nongay reason to withhold their consent. And given that there’s more of them than us on the committee, they probably will succeed.
“And,” Hammond added, “whether we like the man or not, if his nomination fails, it’ll be a major-league slap in the face to gay rights. What Roush said yesterday is accurate—we’ve corrected a lot of the prejudices and problems that have haunted the nation, or at least put laws into place that make it clear we don’t tolerate disparate treatment. But the law still doesn’t protect gay and lesbian people. We actively discriminate against them, prohibiting gay couples from sharing medical benefits and passing legislation with code names like the Defense of Marriage Act. Defense against what? Gay people, obviously.”
“Change takes time,” Ben said. “It’s a mistake to force it before the populace is ready. Could create a backlash. I know a lot of good people who nonetheless have sincere religious objections to homosexuality.”
“You always think the best of people—even when they’re at their worst, don’t you, Ben? You remind me of my boy.”
Ben blinked. “I didn’t know you had a son.”
“Not many people do. He died…well, quite some time ago. But he was a great kid. So full of optimism. Such a good spirit.” He paused reflectively. “Losing him was about the toughest thing that ever happened to me.”
“I can only imagine.”
“Hieronymous Carroll, we called him.”
“Hieronymous?”
Hammond grinned. “I know—it’s awful. What can I say? I was a Latin major.”
“Ah,” Ben said, nodding. “I studied Latin in college myself.”
“But your point is correct, Ben. There is still a lot of homophobia in this country.”
“Nonetheless, I believe we will eventually have gays on the Supreme Court. Even in the White House. Eventually.”
Hammond slapped the back of his chair. “You know what? So do I. I’m just not sure I’ll be alive to see it.” He ran his fingers through his graying hair. “But if someone’s going to go down in the history books as the senators who took a stand against the last bastion of prejudice—why not us?”
“Tempting, I must admit. But I keep coming back to the same stumbling block: he’s a Republican.”
“Like it or not, Ben, the next justice appointed to the Court is going to be a Republican, this one or some other.” He gripped Ben firmly by the shoulder. “Will you do something for me? Come out to the man’s house with me tomorrow. He’s setting up a press conference—to make an announcement as to whether he’ll comply with the President’s unspoken request, or whether he’s going to tough it out. There’ll be people swarming all over the place. Everyone wants to talk to him, but he’s promised me a solid hour when he’ll talk to anyone I bring him.”
“An hour’s not long. Especially if you’ve invited a lot of people. Perhaps another day would be better.”
“An hour will be long enough. And tomorrow he’ll be expecting visitors. It’s not far from here, Ben. What better have you got to do? Meet him. Talk with him. See if he doesn’t impress you as much as he impresses me. Then make your decision.”
Hard to turn down such a reasonable request. “May I ask another question? Why me?”
“Modesty rearing its ugly head again?”
“No. I just know that there are more influential senators around than yours truly.”
“Who says you’re the only person I’ve invited? I’ve been shaking the bushes all morning. Getting a regular junket going. But I know many of our brethren will never support a Republican candidate. They may not oppose him too hard, especially now that such a position could be perceived as anti-gay. But they won’t support him. They’ve got constituents. Careers.”
“And I don’t?”
“You weren’t elected. You didn’t raise campaign funds. You’re not beholden to anyone. Last I heard, you hadn’t even decided whether you’ll seek another term. For a U.S. senator, you have a rare degree of independence. And let me also say that I think I’m a pretty good judge of character. I’ve read your résumé, Ben. I remember that big case you had in Chicago, the gay-bashing hate crime.”
“But I represented—”
“I know. Nonetheless, everyone recognized where you stood on the fundamental issue of equal rights, and I don’t imagine that’s changed much since then, has it? Bottom line—you’ll do what your heart tells you to do, and damn the consequences.” He leaned forward eagerly. “This boy Roush—he needs someone like that. He needs a friend.”
Ben walked to a window and gazed across Constitution Avenue to the Supreme Court building, the home of the most momentous legal decisions in the history of the nation. Could anything possibly be more important than helping determine who would write the next nation-shaking opinion? “I don’t know…”
“So come meet the man. That’s all I’m asking. Bring that pretty little fiancée of yours. You know,” he added, looking Ben directly in the eye, “a lot of our colleagues serve in this chamber for twenty, thirty years, and never do a damn thing of any consequence. You’ve been here a few months and you’ve been given a chance to make history. To change the face of the world. Can you really afford to pass that up?”