Positively Mine by Christine Duval

no one would know. But then I couldn’t go through with it…”
    Mike’s pacing now in my tiny single, fast and hard. The floor creaks with every turn.
    “I never meant for this to happen between us, but when it did, I liked it. I like you.”
    He stops and glares at me.
    “All of this was unplanned, the pregnancy, you…”
    He runs his hands through his hair and rubs his temples. “So let me ask you; what does the baby’s father think about this? Does he know you didn’t go through with the abortion?”
    I’m silent.
    “He does know you’re pregnant, right?”
    I can’t meet his eyes. “I haven’t told him.”
    “How have you not told him?”
    “I just…haven’t.”
    “Well, you have to.”
    “I know.”
    “What about your dad?”
    “He doesn’t know either.”
    It feels like an earthquake has split the road we were on in two. But he reaches across the great divide and touches my arm. “Can I help you?” His voice is softer now.
    I stare at the floor because I can’t look at him anymore. “No. Just, please, don’t say anything to anyone. Until I get it figured out.”
    “I won’t.”
    I walk over to the door and open it, feeling the intensity of those eyes on me. But I can’t meet them. “You should go.”
    He nods, and as he slips through the door, he says, “Good luck, Laurel.”
    I close it firmly behind him.

Chapter Seventeen
    I stand in my room in front of the mirror and practice. “Dad, I know you’re going to be disappointed, but I’m pregnant. Dad, I’ve got something to tell you. I’m pregnant. Dad, I know this is going to come as quite a shock, but I’m pregnant.”
    After last night, I
need
to turn things around. Mike is right. I’ve got to start talking. And the first place I’m going to start is with my dad.
    I hope.
    I press his number and hold my breath. It takes three rings before he answers. “Jason Harris.”
    Dad can never answer like a normal person with a hello, he always has to say his name or jump right into a thought. It’s kind of annoying, especially when he can tell that it’s me calling.
    I have just enough air in my lungs to say, “Hi Dad.”
    “You’re finally gracing me with a phone call.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “I take it you’re enjoying yourself if you can’t find a minute to call me.”
    “I, um…”
    He keeps talking. “I won’t monopolize your time I just wanted to discuss Uncle Jake.”
    “Dad…” I try to interrupt.
    “Just hear me out.”
    I sigh.
    “So, you rode over to the winery? I have to say I was pretty surprised considering you didn’t want to go when we were together in August. I don’t like the idea of you biking that far on your own…”
    “Dad…”
    “I’m more than aware of Jake’s feelings. And now you are too, I guess. I apologize for never mentioning your grandparents put that place in your name. It wasn’t a deliberate thing. Sometimes it is hard to remember that you aren’t a kid anymore. Jake seemed to think I had kept it from you so that you couldn’t get involved in any decisions, which is ridiculous. It’s not like this is the goddamn Rockefeller estate…”
    I barely get in an, “Um,” when he continues, “Still, you are eighteen, and I suppose since it is in your name, you are entitled to an opinion. But could you at least let me explain why I don’t want to listen to Jake?”
    Not right now, Dad.
    “The market is terrible up there. There are seven wineries for sale on Seneca Lake alone, with no one buying. The most valuable thing about that property is the grapes. If we sell off only the vineyard but not the house, we will be stuck maintaining an already borderline-dilapidated place indefinitely.”
    “The house isn’t that bad.”
    “It needs a huge amount of work: a new roof, new kitchen, probably new plumbing. I’m in the city, you’re at school. Do we want the burden of having to keep up this house not to mention eleven acres of useless land? Someone will come along who wants