A Breath Away, A World Apart

Wow, this has been a productive day… not only did I get quite a few letters done after a relatively unproductive week because of everything else that came up, but I came back to the townhouse, cleaned like crazy, did laundry, and finished this story in honor of John Roberts' confirmation today as the seventeenth Chief Justice of the United States.
I started writing this story during the hearings as I watched Jane Roberts sitting behind her husband through the grueling inquisition. I'll admit it: I'm a huge Roberts fan. Love the guy, love his family, I don't know why, but I just have a gut feeling that they're all really amazing people. I started thinking to myself: what would it be like to watch your husband sit under so much scrutiny, to see the man you love attacked by men who hardly knew him – and get away with it?
I acknowledge that this is probably somewhat romanticized, but this is dedicated to the families to sacrifice so much so one of its members can serve their country. Especially for the Roberts family, with prayers for the path ahead, and especially for Mr. Chief Justice: may God grant you great wisdom in leading our country's judiciary in the days to come. Much has been given to you, much will be expected. God bless you.

She is stately in her pressed black suit, sitting with perfect posture just slightly off the black leather cushion of the wood chair. Her hands lay flat across her lap, mindful of the decorum expected in this place with gold-adorned walls and high ceilings. Great men and women have been here; heads of state and foreign dignitaries, former presidents, masters of letters and science - and law. That is the purpose for which she has come today: to see whether this lawyer who has been grilled three dozen times by the Supreme Court, considered a brilliant legal mind of the day, could withstand his last inquisition. This time, there are not nine justices, but eighteen. And this is no simple case of jurisprudence; this concerned history, but more importantly to the lady in black, the outcome of this hearing would change the course of her family. For just two feet in front of her sat her husband, the love of her life, and it was he who was being grilled.

If only I could see his eyes, she thought to herself. Then I would know he was okay. As he answered the questions, his voice was firm and calm. Like always. After all these years, she still had a hard time reading his voice. In many ways, he was still a mystery to her. It was only by looking into his ice-blue eyes that she could tell what he was thinking. She honestly thought it was his only weakness, and she was probably the only person in the world who could read it. Perhaps that was why he married her: because after forty years of life on his own, he had finally found his match, the one who completed him, the one who was both his weakness and his strength.

That had been almost ten years ago. It seemed several lifetimes had transpired in the last three months, much less a decade. When she'd first met him, she knew he was going places, and the last thing she wanted to do was get in the way. She told him that once, two days before their wedding, but he reassured her that he needed her there by his side, and she wanted nothing more than to do that.

But today she could not. She could not stand beside him as he took the verbal beatings from the hostile senators. She couldn't squeeze his hand to let him no that no matter what they said, no matter how they voted, regardless of whether he became chief justice or was never a judge again, she was there and would never leave. But no, she had to sit behind him. Though he was only a breath away, she felt they were a world apart. He was going down a path she couldn't follow, and it was slowly breaking her heart.

She thought of what someone had asked her the day before: was this what you wanted when you married John? It made her think deeply, and she deliberately rolled the question over in her mind. She hadn't married him because she thought he'd be something; she married him because she loved him. She wanted to be with him forever, raise a family together. This wouldn't stand in the way of that. And yet, how could she ever afford her children a normal childhood? They were so young that the only thing they would ever remember was daddy being chief justice. He would be in the news, they would hear people say awful things about him when they didn't even know him. She closed her eyes and shuddered. At least they were too young to understand now. She would hate for them to understand what was going on here in the room as a senator raised his voice. Or for them to see one of those awful commercials. It was hard for her to not tear up as she even thought of it. Every time she heard someone say a harsh word to or about him, it was as if a knife was plunged into her own heart. The awful things people would say about him, just because they disagreed. If only they knew him.

Is this what she wanted? No, not really. She hated that he was in the spotlight. She detested not being able to say anything when people struck against him. Why couldn't she defend him? And she hated the cameras. She had never liked cameras, and John had always teased her about seeing standoffish whenever a lens was in the near vicinity. She knew she still came off that way, and she was sorry for his sake. She didn't want to make him look bad. Maybe when this was over, the camera crews would go away. They next big thing in politics would go on, and maybe life would regain some semblance of normalcy.

Or not.

She took a deep breath and hoped the questioning would end soon. No, this wasn't what she wanted. But it was what she had. She once promised him forever, and that meant for richer or poorer, better or worse, white picket fence in the middle of nowhere or the steps of a cold white marble court. He could be America's chief justice, but he would always be her confidant, her hero, her love.