“Unless I’m hit by a flying pen launched at me.” There was a touch of humor in Tess’s tone.
“Well, I’ll head back to my office. I just wanted to congratulate you.” Then, because Bree’s traitorous body was still spouting off and desiring more from Tess, she reminded them both once again why she was there. “Newbie judge to newbie presiding judge.”
“Thanks. I’m in shock.”
“I’m not sure why,” Bree said. “I can certainly see a four to three vote with this group, and I’m new here. Don’t tell me you can’t see that too.” She hoped Tess knew how she’d voted—definitely not for Huffington.
Tess sat for a moment, as if she was deciding if she should proceed. Then she did. “Helene announced I won with four votes.”
“And? Four out of sevenisa majority.”
Tess shook her head and looked at the open door. “Could you close it, please?”
Bree raised her eyebrows but did as Tess had requested.
“I put anXon my ballot,” Tess quietly confessed.
“You didn’t vote for yourself?” Bree could hear the incredulity in her voice. Then she focused on what Tess had just said. What it might mean besides the fact that Tess wasn’t power hungry, nothing like Huffington. Bree had faith that Tess would take on the job not for herself, but to serve them all.
“So that leaves six of us with votes, and it wasn’t three to three. It must have been four to two, then.” Bree paused and reflected.
“Four to two, so who were the two?” Tess cocked a brow. “I don’t see Callie voting for Huffington after nominating me, and I have a feeling Eric was pleased with the outcome. Huffington undoubtedly voted for himself, so that leaves either Vera or Alan casting the second vote for him since he only received two votes.” Tess met Bree’s gaze directly. “Unless you were the one who joined Huffington’s vote.” Her tone revealed she didn’t believe Bree had supported Huffington.
“Nope. I’m guilty of voting for you.” Bree offered her a smile, and she saw Tess’s eyes brighten.
“I’m not sure if I should thank you or be furious that you helped put me in this position.” Tess bit her lower lip and shook her head in a display of disapproval as she clearly fought a smile of her own.
“Well, I’d better go. Congratulations again.” Bree walked over and held onto the door handle so she didn’t walk over and kiss Tess. She wanted to twist the lock and put Tess in a muchmore compromising position. Instead, she nodded, opened the door, and quickly saw herself out.
Tess sat in her office after Bree had so hurriedly left and reflected. She tried to shove aside the nagging desire she felt for Bree—that was going nowhere and she had other things to consider. It was just starting to settle in that her professional life had taken a major shift. She thought about what had just occurred with the vote, and she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
Sometimes power didn’t come through blatant acquisition, it was dumped on you. Tess knew she was a good judge, and she didn’t want to compromise that as she struggled to try to redefine how she approached her life. She hoped that she was up for this new leadership development.
She looked across her office at the photo on her bookshelf. There she stood in a black robe next to Alice. It wasn’t her judge’s robe, but her UC Berkeley law school graduation robe. It wasn’t who was in the photo, but who wasn’t there that always provoked her awareness of that hole in her heart. Her parents hadn’t shown up. After all, she had only been second best in her class.
Tess could call Flo, but she decided to save Flo for later, when she wanted the easy teasing and laughing her friend provided with her advice. Right now, she needed the sounding board approach that Alice provided. She picked up the phone and selected Alice’s number.
“Hi, honey. You usually don’t call me at five o’clock. Everything okay? Anything I can do?”
“Yeah. How about lending an ear.” Just hearing her aunt’svoice offered Tess some solace. How could a voice with so many of the same features as her mother’s—pitch, articulation, fluency, pronunciation—have almost the polar opposite effect on her? It was because the tone, the volume, and especially the content were so different.
“Well, that’s my specialty, lending an ear,” Alice said. “The last time we talked, you hadn’t started back to work yet after your Tahoe break. And you’d met someone special that you insisted you had to leave there. But she’d reinforced your assessment that you’ve been hiding beneath that robe.”
Thinking of her robe made Tess reflect on her mother again. She’d been shaped by her wealthy and extremely accomplished lawyer father and her mother, who was a mess of insecurities that manifested in compensatory behavior and unrealistic expectations. Tess had spent decades doing everything her now deceased parents had demanded, and yet it had never been enough. Gaining their love had been contingent on more from her than she could provide.
“That robe pleased Mother. As into couture as she was, that didn’t apply to me. It was the black robe she’d always wanted me in, since I was a toddler. I was her daughter—destined to make her proud as a prodigious legal professional. She wasn’t easy to understand, but I’ve concluded that when she abandoned her own dreams to pursue my father and motherhood, she transferred them to me. It’s too bad she’s not still alive—while not the highest judicial seat, what happened today might have earned me a smidgeon of begrudging approval. As for Father, not being a son was an insurmountable failure.”
“And what happened today?”
“I was elected by my colleagues to be the next presiding judge of the Corazon County Superior Court. A power shift for our little group of bench warmers.” Tess sighed. “A shift right onto me.”
“And that doesn’t please you?” Alice’s tone was gentle andattentive, but not surprised.
“I’m not into the management of judicial courthouse dynamics. I’m not really even sure it’s power since I don’t have an agenda to promote. I have no clue how I’ll do at the job.”
“Will you do as well as the person you’re replacing?”
Tess shrugged, then nodded, even though Alice couldn’t see her. “Probably better.”
