Chapter Thirteen — The Last Day in Courtroom 4B
I retired permanently at seventy-two.
This time, I meant it.
My final docket happened to be in Courtroom 4B.
The symmetry amused me.
Melissa organized a small gathering after court.
Rebecca brought champagne.
Chief Judge Moreno gave a speech that was ten minutes too long.
The bailiff who had witnessed Clara shove me gave me a framed photograph of the courthouse.
David sat in the second row.
His license had been reinstated four months earlier.
He now worked full time in legal aid.
His suits were cheaper.
His car was older.
His eyes were kinder.
When the ceremony ended, he waited until everyone else had hugged me.
Then he approached.
“Congratulations, Judge.”
I smiled.
“Thank you, Counselor.”
He looked toward the marble hallway beyond the doors.
“I hate this place sometimes.”
“I don’t.”
“How?”
“Because it told me the truth.”
His expression changed.
“That day?”
“Yes.”
“It was the worst day of my life.”
“One of mine too.”
“I still hear myself telling you to go downstairs.”
“I know.”
His eyes filled.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
We stood there.
Then, for the first time since the shove, I opened my arms.
David froze.
Only for a second.
Then he hugged me.
Not tightly.
Carefully.
Like someone holding something precious he knew he had once broken.
I whispered into his shoulder.
“I forgive you.”
He began to cry.
I held him.
“But David?”
“Yes?”
“Forgiveness does not erase memory.”
“I know.”
“It shouldn’t.”
“I know.”
I stepped back.
He wiped his face.
Then laughed softly.
“Mom, you always have to turn everything into a judicial opinion.”
“Occupational hazard.”
We walked out of Courtroom 4B together.
When we reached the exact stretch of marble where Clara had shoved me, I stopped.
David stopped too.
My shoulder no longer hurt.
The memory did.
Maybe it always would.
I touched the wall.
Cold stone.
Polished.
Unchanged.
“Are you okay?” David asked.
I looked at him.
“Yes.”
And I meant it.
