Barring Complications

by Blythe Rippon

  When the justices settled, silence fell over the room. O’Neil allowed the quiet to reign for a moment before he spoke.

  “We begin with the lawyers representing the United States in this case, as they were the ones who executed the appeal.”

  And so it begins, Genevieve thought.

  Stuart White was an onerous man with a comb-over and an affected drawl. If a casting agent had gotten his hands on this little drama, he could not have more perfectly assigned the role of the lawyer arguing against marriage equity. Genevieve watched in disgust as he blew his nose on a soiled hanky, returned it to his jacket pocket, and stood to address the bench.

  “If it please the Court. We convene today to reestablish the meaning of marriage in this country. Marriage, as we all know, has throughout history, from generation to generation, been defined as the union of one man and one woman. We submit to the Court that this definition of one of our most time-honored and sacred institutions must be upheld.” He paused, probably surprised that he had not yet been interrupted. When no interjection was forthcoming, he resumed his argument.

  “The other side will likely try to paint us as bigots, and the impetus for DOMA as animus. This could not be more wrong. We value the lives of our gay and lesbian neighbors. We have no problem with state or federal governments offering alternative institutions such as civil unions to gays and lesbians. But the institution of marriage has a definition. And we see no constitutional basis for changing this definition.”

  White almost looked relieved when Michelle Lin took this opportunity to ask a question.

  “You don’t think the Court should recognize gay marriages, and it seems to me that what animates this claim is religion—the notion that marriage is a sacrament. Why, then, should the government recognize any marriages? Why shouldn’t we leave it up to the church?”

  “Well, Justice Lin, the government has historically recognized the importance of rights and responsibilities stemming from marriage. Marriage produces civic and economic benefits for the state. The precedent for federal marriage rights can be found in a number of places, including Loving v. Virginia.”

  “Then let’s talk about Loving,” said Lin. “The case is the clearest precedent for this one, and it establishes that the government should not put restrictions, based on identity markers, on the institution of marriage. Explain how Loving leaves room for discrimination against gay marriage.”

  The rest of White’s argument proceeded as expected, with constant interruptions from the bench and what Genevieve considered mediocre responses. When the justices were finished with him, he oozed into his seat.

  Genevieve took a drink of water, then stood and smoothed her skirt.

  “It has become practice for Supreme Court justices to enter this building through a different door than the public. Lawyers arguing in front of you are likewise granted admission through a special entrance. But today I walked through the west entrance of the Court, like the spectators here in the gallery. You may or may not remember the architecture of this entrance, or the engraving on the frieze above it. But average citizens who enter this building do so underneath the phrase ‘Equal Justice Under the Law.’

  “And that’s what we’re here about today. We submit to the Court that the Defense of Marriage Act, in its entirety, codifies into US law unequal treatment of gays and lesbians. We—”

  “Ms. Fornier,” began O’Neil, “am I correct in understanding that you are requesting a wholesale rejection of DOMA, rather than a dismissal of the two sections in question at the district and appellate level?”

  Genevieve continued unfazed. “Yes, Mr. Chief Justice. DOMA expressly limits the rights of my four clients, and thousands of similarly situated gays and lesbians in this country who are married under state law, but single under federal law. This federal law places them in a specifically disfavored category where their fundamental rights are denied recognition by the federal government. If the federal government were to recognize marriage rights for gay couples in some states, then it must recognize those rights for gay couples in all states.”

  The chief justice interrupted again. “Ms. Fornier, in your briefs to the Court, you argued that DOMA represented federal overreach—that it was an infringement on states’ rights. Explain, please, how requiring the federal government to recognize gay marriage wouldn’t infringe on the rights of states that expressly ban such marriages.”

  “Well, Mr. Chief Justice, there are two issues at play here. Requiring the federal government to recognize gay marriages does not require all states to issue those licenses. It simply adds the final step in the marriage process to those couples already married at the state level. Overturning this section of DOMA would mean that couples like my clients never have to question when they fill out an official government document if they should check the box that reads ‘married,’ or the box that reads ‘single.’ They would be fully married.

  “The second issue is the notion that all states ought to be required to issue marriage licenses to gay couples. This is a question less of states’ rights than of equal protection. Allowing some states to expressly ban gay marriage amounts to a violation of the fundamental rights of gay citizens.”

  Justice Willoughby leaned forward and held up her hand, stopping Genevieve’s speech. “Ms. Fornier, where is the precedent for requiring such legal recognition of gay marriage? On which cases could this bench base a decision to both overthrow DOMA and require states to start issuing licenses?”

  “Thank you, Justice Willoughby. This Court has issued fourteen opinions in its long history that clearly indicate the importance and value of marriage as an expression of personal freedom, and an institution which should not be limited to select categories of people. The decision in Lawrence v. Texas establishes that the sexual orientation of individuals is a protected right. The combination of the various marriage-related cases, on the one hand, and the protections for gays and lesbians established in Lawrence on the other hand forms a firm foundation on which this court could write an opinion giving gays and lesbians equal marriage rights. Could write, and, based on this precedent, must write.”

  Questions and answers continued for forty-five minutes, and if the questions were any indication, the Court was every bit as divided on this issue as the public had expected. Jamison remained silent as usual, but Genevieve studied his reactions out of the corner of her eye while she expertly fielded questions about procreation, religious protections, and the difference between civil unions and marriages. He gave her no clues.

  When the questions concluded, she knew she’d argued convincingly for her clients, and had made the most compelling case for full recognition of gay marriage that anyone could.

  She just didn’t know if had been enough.

  Chapter Two

  Arguments ended at twelve-thirty, and Nic and Jamie were in high spirits as the three of them walked down the hallway to the exit. They wanted to go out and celebrate, but Genevieve wasn’t as certain of victory, and she craved the privacy of her couch and a glass of wine. She promised them an epic party if they won.

  As expected, they were stopped on the steps by a bank of reporters eager to hear their opinion on how arguments went, along with their predictions. Genevieve advanced a step closer to the microphones than her colleagues, who stood behind her on either side.

  She always felt cold in front of cameras after a trial, and then feverish when the press conference was over—like someone had drained her blood and replaced it with a liquid form of Icy Hot. She hid her shiver and recited the statement she had prepared the night before about the importance of this case and her confidence in victory. The reporters’ questions felt inane after the interrogation she’d just withstood inside. She made sure the cameras captured her shaking hands with Nic and Jamie, and felt satisfied with their public performance.

  She descended the rest of the steps around the reporters as they shifted their attention to White and his legal team, who were at that moment exiting the
building. Walking straight to the black unmarked car HER had hired to drive her for the day, she opened the door and gratefully slid into the backseat. Only when the door was closed and the tinted windows protected her from curious eyes did she let the mask fall. She leaned her head back against the seat and rubbed her face, knowing she was wiping off her eyeliner and not caring. She unbuttoned her jacket and pulled her blouse out of her skirt. Despite the early hour, that glass of wine was sounding better and better.

  There was nothing more to be done now. She had no pressing concerns, no responsibilities waiting for her. And she had no more direct influence on the justices deciding the case. It was up to the nine jurists to study the law and their hearts and arrive at the right answer. It was up to Tori to convince them behind the scenes. It was up to Alistair, whom she expected might retire soon, and would certainly want to exit the court on a high note not only for his liberal colleagues, but for human rights.

  Genevieve stretched and exhaled heavily. Maybe she’d take a bath.

  When the car stopped front of her townhouse, she thanked the driver. The moment she got inside, she kicked off her shoes and dropped her briefcase, then closed the door and threw the deadbolt, enjoying the satisfying sound of locking out the world.

  “You look like hell, sweet cheeks! Good thing I made drinks. One Texas Whiskey Revival for the famous protector of gay rights from sea to shining sea!”

  Genevieve couldn’t help but laugh at Bethany, seated at her dining room table surrounded by liquor bottles and two tumblers of amber liquid. She dropped into a chair and pointed to the glass that hadn’t been half consumed already. “Slide that over here, you perfect, perfect woman.” Taking a deep drink, she closed her eyes, enjoying the burning in her throat. “God, that’s good. I could marry you.”

  “That confident in your performance today, huh?” Bethany teased, but Genevieve could hear the question in her voice.

  “I did well. We presented a better case. Now we wait and see.”

  “Well, drink up, my beauty. There’s more where that came from.” Although Genevieve hadn’t yet finished her first drink, Bethany began mixing seconds.

  “How did you even get in?” she asked.

  “Since you were too thoughtless to give me my own set of keys, I borrowed yours and copied them.”

  “Charming. You should consider a career in breaking and entering.”

  “Nah. I like being on this side of the law.”

  Not quite ready to relive her morning, Genevieve slid off her jacket and offered a non sequitur. “Did you notice that new, hole-in-the-wall Jesus gym around the corner from the Supreme Court? I never knew gyms could have religious affiliations.”

  Bethany served up round two. “Oh, God’s Gym? ‘The Power of Faith?’ Lame-ass slogan. Although I’ve heard it’s trying to be more non-denominational.”

  “It’s not trying very hard, unless it’s going to change its logo. Jesus with a barbell doesn’t seem very welcoming to other faiths.”

  “Well, if Jesus working out doesn’t inspire you to pump iron, I don’t know what will. You thinking about joining?” Bethany threw back the last of her first drink and switched tumblers.

  “Absolutely not. There’s only one situation where I want to be sweating and calling Jesus’s name, and it’s not the gym.”

  Bethany chuckled. “Girlfriend, you need to get some action.”

  “Maybe now that this case is argued. There’s a lot of restructuring I want to do around HER, and an adoption case that needs some attention. But, wow,” she said, rolling her shoulders, “I feel so much lighter now. Like I have time. And space. And fresh air.”

  “Does that mean you’re going to start taking care of yourself again? Because this Amy Winehouse look you’re sporting, with the drawn cheeks and haggard eyes, is so last year.”

  Genevieve turned to look at herself in the mirror that hung behind her table. She squinted. “What are you talking about? I look fine.”

  “Do you think Amy’s problems were only on the outside? Honey, you’re withering inside. You haven’t seen the sun in ages. Here.” She slid an envelope across the table.

  Genevieve picked it up. “What’s this?”

  “Why do people always ask that? Like I’m going to spell it out for you when you could just open the damn thing and see for yourself. If the envelope came with a speech, I’d have delivered one. Instead, I’m simply pushing it into your waiting hands, and sitting back to watch your reaction.” She leaned back in her chair and took a swig of her drink.

  Rolling her eyes, Genevieve tore open the envelope. Out spilled gift certificates for a massage, manicure, and pedicure; a business card for a stylist in Dupont Circle; and a registration in her name for a half-marathon in DC in three months.

  She refolded the printout with the race information. “Are you saying I’m fat?”

  “I’m saying that if you’re not sweating in some leggy paralegal’s bedroom, you can at least sweat for a good cause. Run for Equality is right up your alley.”

  “I prefer sex,” Genevieve mumbled.

  “Can’t help you there, sugar, but I’m sure Tara knows some good gay bars around here.”

  “That’s not a bad idea. Maybe I’ll call her.”

  Bethany nodded, looking pleased with herself. “You may thank me now.”

  “Thank you, Bethany. I appreciate it.”

  “So,” Bethany said.

  “So.”

  “Well, what are we doing today? Are we getting pedicures, or putting on pajamas and camping out in front of Netflix?” She nodded her head toward a duffle bag on the chair next to her. “I also came prepared to go running, or to get skanked out like we’re twenty-five again and hit up some dive bar in the middle of the afternoon. Pick your poison.”

  Considering she hadn’t run in a while and it would take her some time to work up to 13.1 miles, Genevieve opted for the physical activity. After a quick change of clothes, they were off. She noted with amusement that running after drinking was significantly less painful than running sober. It was easy to ignore the burn in her legs when her throat was still raw from whiskey.

  Chapter Three

  Genevieve knew better, really, but lacked the willpower to resist. The morning after oral arguments, she rose from the bed, grabbed her laptop and some coffee, and returned to her cocoon beneath the down comforter. She went first to the New York Times. The headline story was about her case, and an entire section of the website was given over to opinion pieces. Nothing too surprising: speculation that Jamison would side in favor of marriage equality because it was rumored he had a gay cousin, and an entire op-ed arguing that Michelle Lin would vote against marriage equality in a concurring dissent in which she determined the state had no compelling interest in the business of marriage. Well, at least Nic wasn’t the only one riding that crazy train.

  Next she visited CNN, followed by The Washington Post, Slate, Huffington Post, and for old time’s sake, the Chicago Tribune. Pretty much the same theories, though there was an interesting piece in the Austin-American Statesman suggesting O’Neil would vote to overturn DOMA as an infringement on states’ rights.

  Sipping her coffee, she scrolled down to read the comments beneath an article in the San Francisco Chronicle. Some crazy idiot styling himself “Marriage’s Sacred Protector” issued blanket threats to anyone supporting marriage equality. One commenter with the handle “Lesburu Driver” wrote a treatise on why every single justice was probably going to vote for full marriage equality in every state. She was probably a bit loony, but Genevieve appreciated that she could cite the unanimous Loving v. Virginia decision.

  She was glad she’d taken some time to read the news—and the vacant content posing as news—before she opened her email. Her work account was flooded, even though everyone in the office knew she was taking the day off. Her secretary had forwarded a request from MSNBC that she appear on Hardball with Chris Matthews. Too bad the invitation wasn’t for the Rachel Maddow Show. There
were two more requests for interviews, one from Logo and one from NPR’s Talk of the Nation. Later this week she’d devote some time to scheduling appearances with various news outlets.

  She closed her laptop and contemplated the bedroom door. She felt a familiar pull to the world beyond and all of the projects at work that she could get started on. It was always this way when she wrapped up a case. During prep, she ran in one of two gears: overdrive or passed out. The day after arguments, when there was nothing she could do but wait, she struggled to downshift. She knew she’d feel terrible about herself if she stayed in bed all day bingeing on Netflix. But she feared that if she got up now, she’d immediately get on the phone with her secretary to schedule interviews and start work on her next project, which would probably be fundraising, considering they had exhausted the organization’s resources on this case. As soon as she called the office, it would negate whatever reason compelled her to take the day off and she would decide she might as well go in.

  She was pondering all this when her phone rang.

  “Okay, girlfriend, you have two hours to be a lazy slob before you have to be at Obelisk,” Bethany ordered. “We have a reservation for four at 12:30.”

  “Four?” she asked warily.

  “Sonya and Tara want to hear all about the case. And if you don’t want to talk about it, they want to hear all about you. Either way, you’ll be doing a lot of talking.”

  Genevieve seriously doubted that. It was a toss-up whether Bethany or Tara would dominate the conversation, but she was sure it wouldn’t be her.

  “What’s the dress code at this place?”

  “Oh, you know, DC casual.”

  “So, a suit?”

  “I’m sure you’ll pull together something presentable from that warehouse you call a wardrobe. Oh, and Sonya is bringing this adorable new radiologist who just moved here from Chicago, so do try and be charming.”

  Genevieve rolled her eyes. “I thought you said the reservation was for four.”