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Portland, Oregon
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A cab drove me to a house at the end of a cul-de-sac on a street lined with maple trees. My father sort of inherited it a year ago. Subsequently my parents repeatedly said, “Natalia, if we’re ever separated, go to the residence in Oregon and we’ll find you.”
We spent last July at this creepy place after completing piles of paperwork. I didn’t understand the legalities, but Dad received something called a “life estate.”
FLASHBACK 1997
In the conference room of our lawyer’s office, I sat quietly and listened.
Dad said, “Let me get this straight; I have a life-estate in the property I recently inherited?”
His young, somewhat nervous attorney replied, “That’s correct, Mr. Canaan. Upon your death, this house will pass to your third-cousin, Milton Canaan.”
“That’s great, so I have nothing to leave my daughter?” Dad asked sharply.
“Well, you can leave her your own personal property, but not the Portland home,” Mr. Kelly explained.
My mother interjected, “Jason, at least you inherited something. All I got was debt when Mom and Dad died.”
Dad wasn’t pacified and snapped, “Nah, this is bullshit. Milton meant nothing to my parents. I’m getting stiffed because I’m not a blood relation.”
“Jason, it’s a place we can live rent-free,” Mom suggested.
Ignoring her, Dad said, “Mr. Kelly, I want to set up a life insurance policy. In case I die, I want to make sure my wife and daughter are taken care of.”
“Certainly Mr. Canaan, I’m happy to take care of that.”
Sitting in the taxi, I pondered my predicament. To collect on the life insurance, I had to prove that Dad was dead. However, then I couldn’t stay in this life-estate. Plus, I had no relatives, except for Milton who was hardly family. Ending up in foster care was my worst nightmare, so pretending Mom and Dad were around, but rarely here seemed like my only option. That way, I could live in this house — at least for a while.
***
The taxi sped off while I stood in the driveway with my luggage. In the dark, the old Victorian home looked black and tattered like something out of a horror film.
I rustled through my suitcase looking for the bag of keys I had found in the safe. Impatiently, I experimented with different ones. My thoughts raced as I tried key after key. A week ago, my biggest concern was what I would wear when school started. Now I had far greater issues.
Finally, a key unlocked the door, and I entered darkness. None of the lights worked, so I stumbled into the living room and collapsed on a dusty velvet sofa in my dirty clothes.