Chapter 4: Locked Out of My Own Life
Daniel asked the bank to freeze the application, then photographed every page Mrs.
Gable had brought.
Brenda watched him with one hand resting over her purse.
“This is a family disagreement,” she said.
“You’re making it sound like a crjme.”
“Your signature is not on the document,” Daniel replied.
“Catherine’s is.”
Elaine stood.
“Catherine did sign it.
She simply doesn’t remember.”
I looked at her.
“Where was I when I supposedly signed?”
“At this table.”
“What was I wearing?”
Elaine blinked.
“How should I remember?”
“You remember that I signed away my home, but not whether I was sitting in front of you?”
Brenda pulled a folded document from her purse.
“Fine.
Forget the transfer.
We have a lease.”
Daniel opened it.
The lease claimed Brandon and Brenda could remain in the house for five years for one dollar a month.
“That’s my signature too,” I said.
“And I didn’t write it.”
Brenda pointed to the final page.
“Two witnesses say you did.”
Elaine’s name appeared beside Martin’s.
Martin’s chair scraped against the floor.
“I never signed this.”
“Your signature is right there,” Brenda said.
“My name is there.
That is not my signature.”
Brandon rubbed his forehead.
“Stop.
Everyone stop.”
I turned toward him.
“Did you know about this lease?”
“No.”
Brenda gave a sharp laugh.
“Of course he knew.
He gave me the papers from your desk.”
Brandon’s hand dropped.
He would not meet my eyes.
“You went through my desk?” I asked.
“I was looking for the insurance policy.”
“Why?”
He swallowed.
“Brenda said we needed proof the house would come to me.”
I touched the back of a chair to steady myself.
“Your father and I paid for this house while you were still learning to tie your shoes.”
“Dad always said it would be mine someday.”
“Someday, Brandon.
After I no longer needed it.”
Brenda stepped between us.
“You’re being dramatic.
We were creating security for our baby.”
“With my savings and my house?”
“With family assets.”
“They are not yours.”
“They will be,” she said.
Daniel placed the lease into his folder.
“Not with forged signatures.”
Brenda lifted her phone.
“My attorney says you cannot remove a pregnant tenant without a court order.
If Catherine tries, we will ask for an emergency injunction.”
“You already spoke to an attorney?” Brandon asked.
“I plan ahead.”
That evening, Daniel insisted I stay with Mrs.
Gable until we could secure the documents.
I packed a small overnight bag while Brandon stood in the hallway.
“Mom, give me one day to fix this.”
“You had eight months.”
When I returned the next morning, my key would not turn.
Brenda opened the door but left the security chain fastened.
“You changed my locks?”
“My attorney advised it.”
“This is my home.”
She held up a court-stamped page.
“Not until the hearing.
The judge issued a temporary order preventing you from disturbing our tenancy.”
Daniel read the order over my shoulder.
“She used the forged lease.”
Brenda smiled through the narrow opening.
“Maybe the judge understands documents better than you do.”
Behind her, Brandon carried two boxes from my bedroom.
“Brandon,” I said, “look at me.”
He stopped but kept his face lowered.
“Are you really locking your mother out?”
Brenda pulled the door closed.
May you like
Just before it shut, Brandon whispered, “I’m sorry, Mom.”
The lock clicked, and for the first time in forty years, I stood outside my own home with nowhere to put my key.
