“UM! Will someone, UM, please get me up, UM, to speed,” Kate demanded. I looked down, scraping my plate in search of some leftover crusty cheese. It didn’t seem appropriate to tell her the truth, namely: We can’t speak to anyone. Can’t use the phone. We’re not allowed to go online. There are blind people who try to poison you. There is a fanny-pack-wearing medievalist and a homicidal homemaker who double as secretaries. And our denture-wearing boss was plucked off the set of Halloween 13. Kate would have to learn for herself like the rest of us.

“Kate, we work in a strange place. You’ll see,” Matthew offered casually.

“So, did you know that Judge Adams is being considered for the top spot?” Betsy said, changing the subject and dropping a bomb of judicial proportions.

Blood rushed to Evan’s puny head: “The Su-su-su-preeeeeme Court?!”

“Sheila, I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone, which is why I haven’t said anything to you,” Kevin apologized.

Before I could respond, Betsy cut in, ignoring Evan, who appeared to be choking.

“This has to be on the DL,” she said, her eyes bulging. “So, our secretary told us last week that the Bushies are getting paranoid, quite paranoid indeed, that this Hernandez character is getting Borked. It’s clear that the Democrats are going to continue filibustering him. Which they should. He’s a conservative motherfucker.” Betsy paused long enough on the fucker part to cause Evan to turn a deep shade of purple. “But now that some moderate Republicans are on board, Pennsylvania Avenue is really freaking out. So Specter, as in Senator Specter—you know, head of the Judiciary Committee, a good friend of the Adamses’—calls last Tuesday. Seems that Specter got a call from GW himself asking about Judge Adams. El presidente is getting heat from his advisers to nominate someone else. Someone less controversial. Someone who doesn’t fantasize about lynching abortion clinic workers. Someone who’d still kill a category. Someone still Republican. Voilà! Linda Adams. Female. Blue-collar background. She wins on gender and class. Only problem is she’s not Hispanic. But what the fuck—you can’t have it all.”

Everyone fixated on Betsy, who clearly loved the spotlight. It occurred to me that being a clerk may be fabulous after all. We were privy to the news before it was news.

“Specter has given her his personal stamp of approval. It could be as early as next month. Now she’s just waiting to get Shepard’s support. He’s a little wishy-washy because of her stance on abortion, but I think he’ll come around.” The end. She was done.

So were we.

Armageddon would follow shortly after Judge Friedman got a load of this. No doubt, this news would have profound ramifications for us. Kate didn’t get it.