Chapter 2 - TAVIAN’S LAST TEN MONTHS
Tavian found out he was dying slowly enough to make plans and quickly enough to hate every minute of planning them.
Aggressive cancer.
Ten months from diagnosis to death.
He was thirty-nine.
Esmond was four when treatment began.
Laurel had already been gone three years.
A pulmonary embolism after a minor surgery.
Sudden.
No warning.
Tavian became a single father overnight.
He was good at it.
Not naturally graceful.
Good.
He learned school lunches.
Haircuts.
Laundry temperatures.
He once called me because Esmond’s favorite stuffed dog had lost an eye and Tavian considered that an emergency.
Then cancer.
The three Vale brothers reorganized.
Ulric lived ten minutes away.
I lived mostly out of state for work.
Ulric handled more appointments.
More school pickups.
More nights at Tavian’s house.
That was true.
I flew home when I could.
Weekends.
Treatment cycles.
One long month during surgery.
But if a judge wanted a spreadsheet of hours, Ulric would win.
That mattered.
The first time Tavian talked to me about Esmond’s future, we were sitting outside the oncology center.
He said:
“If Laurel were here, this wouldn’t be a question.”
I said nothing.
Then:
“If I die, I want you to take him.”
I stared.
“Ulric is local.”
“I know.”
“He’s already helping more.”
“I know.”
“Then why me?”
Tavian looked toward the parking lot.
“Because you don’t make fear useful.”
I did not understand.
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing. Forget it.”
I didn’t.
But I also didn’t push.
That became one of the things I regretted.
Then he bought the emergency phone.
Cheap.
Durable.
No games.
No browser.
One saved contact.
Mine.
I laughed when he showed me.
“You know 911 exists.”
“Yes.”
“Why only me?”
“Because he knows 911 is for emergencies. I want him to have one person for scared.”
“Why not Ulric?”
Tavian’s expression changed.
“Because I said you.”
There.
Another warning I treated like preference instead of evidence.
Then Tavian’s attorney.
I knew her name:
Harriet Cole.
I had never met her.
After Tavian died, Ulric told everyone Harriet had only handled the will.
The will filed with probate named the estate executor.
It did not contain a guardianship paragraph.
Harriet was away caring for her own ill mother and unreachable for several days.
Ulric said:
“See?”
I said:
“That doesn’t mean nothing exists.”
He answered:
“It means you don’t get to invent dead-man wishes.”
Fair point legally.
So I filed my petition based on:
Tavian’s statements.
My relationship with Esmond.
The emergency phone.
My willingness and ability to parent.
Ulric filed based on:
Existing temporary placement.
Longer local caregiving history.
Esmond’s established home.
His claim that changing homes after Tavian’s death would create instability.
Also reasonable on paper.
Then the bat shattered the paper version.
But even after that, the court would still ask:
What is best for Esmond?
May you like
Not:
Who did Tavian love more?
