The Settlement Table Put A Price On Family Tradition

The meeting took place in a borrowed conference room near the courthouse. Someone had left a bowl of wrapped peppermints in the middle of the table.

Irma moved the bowl aside as if it belonged to a servant who had forgotten her task.

“Let's stop wasting money,” she said.

Deena had finished her review. The rink's accounts were sound apart from the unsupported payment. She found no hidden loans, missing payroll taxes, or other transfers to Irma's business.

That mattered. I wanted an end to the search as much as I wanted the money back.

Deena had checked payments against invoices and traced deposits to the league books. Ruth had answered questions without treating them as insults. I had done the same.

“Your review is complete?” I asked.

“For the scope we agreed on, yes,” Deena said. “The payment is the problem. We found no reason to suggest a larger theft.”

I asked Jasper to include that limit in our written summary. Irma had done enough harm. I didn't need to add things we couldn't prove.

Jasper laid out our proposal.

Irma would return $18,450 to the repair reserve. She would reimburse $6,200 in documented legal and accounting costs tied to the payment and the ownership dispute.

The parties would submit an agreed judgment confirming the trust's seven hundred twenty units, my appointment, and my valid vote to replace her as manager.

She would withdraw her claims that the trust was unsigned or unfunded. She would stop presenting herself as the controlling owner or as someone authorized to sell company property.

“She still owns her units,” Jasper said. “She receives the owner information the agreement requires. Any lawful distributions remain subject to the same rules as before.”

Irma folded her arms.

“So I get nothing.”

“You keep what you own,” I said.

“After all I've done.”

Mr. Sutter touched the edge of her folder.

“We discussed this.”

I looked at the condo receipt.

“Why call it a membership study?”

She stared past me at a framed picture of Lake Superior.

“The assessment was due. My savings were tied up.”

“Then why not ask for a loan?”

“You would have made me beg.”

That answer hurt more than I expected.

“You never asked.”

“The sale would have covered everything.”

“Your private fee would have covered it.”

Mr. Sutter said, “The consulting agreement was contingent on closing. No fee has been paid.”

“I know,” I said. “I want it ended in writing.”

Harbor Rise had already supplied its position. After reviewing the ownership papers, it had withdrawn its offer. It would make no claim against the rink for its own early planning costs.

Margo had written that she would not proceed with a project founded on disputed authority.

The company also agreed to terminate Irma's fee agreement without payment. Irma's signature was the last one needed on that document.

The $96,000 wasn't a debt we could collect. It was a private reward that would never arrive.

Irma read the termination twice.

“Harold wouldn't have let outsiders decide this.”

“Harold hired a lawyer,” I said. “Then he signed papers.”

For once, she had no answer ready.

Mr. Sutter asked for a private break. Jasper and I walked to a window overlooking the parking lot.

“You can settle without forgiving her,” he said.

“I know.”

“And the money must clear. A promise won't repair a pump.”

I smiled for the first time that morning.

“You do listen when you curl.”

“Only between missed shots.”

When we returned, Irma offered $10,000 now and the rest over a year.

I shook my head.

“The reserve paid your whole assessment in one day.”

Her lawyer asked for ten business days. She had funds in a savings certificate she could redeem.

I agreed to that deadline, with payment terms entered in the judgment so we could enforce them if she failed.

She signed the fee termination first.

Her hand stayed steady. I watched because some part of me had expected a person losing power to look different.

She looked like Irma.

Then she reached the access paragraph in the proposed settlement. It said that ownership alone gave no right to staff keys, free services, or private use of rink space.

“What is this?”

“Company rules,” I said.

“Our family has always had Saturdays.”

“The morning school program has Saturdays.”

“Since you put it there.”

“Since the company approved it six years ago.”

Mr. Sutter checked the old minutes Jasper supplied. He nodded once.

Irma pushed the packet toward me.

“I will pay,” she said. “But I want a separate agreement about family use before I sign the rest.”

From her purse, she took a handwritten list of names and dates. At the top, she had written Ellison Family Rights.