Chapter 18 - THE SETTLEMENT OFFER
Edwin offered settlement before final fiduciary hearing.
Terms:
Repay $6,300.
Accept reclassification corrections.
Reimburse half my personal legal fees up to $20,000.
Complete counseling.
Remain suspended from coding distributions for one year.
Then resume as family adviser with Northstar oversight.
In exchange:
I withdraw petition seeking permanent removal.
Northstar audit closes.
No request for surcharge beyond repayment.
I do not support additional civil fiduciary claims.
Criminal child case separate.
At first glance, reasonable.
Then one personal term outside formal settlement.
Edwin would give Calloway $100,000 from his own funds for education.
No strings in document.
But timing was obvious.
I stared at Naomi.
“Can he do that?”
“Yes.”
“Should I accept?”
“Different question.”
If gift truly irrevocable and independent, Calloway could benefit.
But would it become another proof?
Grandpa paid because Dad settled.
I said no to the gift for now.
Then fiduciary role.
Why did Edwin need it back?
Control.
Identity.
Maybe he could change.
But one year suspension felt too short.
I countered:
Permanent removal as family distribution adviser.
He could remain a beneficiary.
Could provide nonbinding family input only if Northstar requested.
Repay $6,300.
Pay audit surcharge if ordered.
No personal gift linked.
Contact with Calloway separately governed.
Edwin rejected.
He said:
“Your mother chose me.”
True.
Miriam also chose Northstar to restrain him.
Then he offered something bigger.
Not money.
His house.
“I’ll put the lake cabin in Calloway’s name.”
No.
Again.
Property as solution.
No.
Then he said:
“You would rather destroy family than let me give him something.”
I answered:
“You keep trying to make ownership stand in for repair.”
That sentence sounded like therapy.
Probably was.
Then my own temptation.
The lake cabin was worth maybe $280,000.
Calloway loved it.
Nora loved it.
If transferred cleanly, could be wonderful.
I wanted it.
I admitted to Naomi.
She said:
“Wanting value does not make you corrupt.”
“Taking?”
“Depends on terms.”
But even no formal strings, I knew what it would mean in Edwin’s head.
He bought forgiveness.
Then if I later restricted contact:
After I gave him the cabin.
No.
I refused.
Costly.
Not heroic.
I complained about it for three days.
Then Calloway asked:
“Can we go lake cabin this summer?”
I said:
“I don’t know.”
He groaned.
May you like
No moral speech.
Children still like cabins.
