Positively Mine by Christine Duval Page A

the vineyard badly enough that they’ll purchase all of it.”
    “I think Uncle Jake needs the money. He’s not looking so good.”
    “Jake always needs money. Your grandparents helped him out for decades, when they were barely making ends meet themselves. Now they’re gone, and he’s mishandled his finances again, and he’s trying to manipulate you so that he can dig himself out of a hole.”
    “I never knew he was like that.”
    “He’s irresponsible. He taught you how to drive when you were thirteen, for Christ’s sake!”
    “Fourteen.”
    “Whatever! If we manage to sell before you graduate from school, you might even have a down payment for an apartment. But if we only sell part of the land, I’m afraid that house could be a burden for years.”
    “You know best, Dad.” I sigh. “Can we drop it now?”
    “Good idea.” He continues without taking a breath. “I have some other news I want to tell you about anyway.”
    I feel us getting further and further away from the window where I can insert, “I’m pregnant.”
    “Remember Andrea Slawson who lived on the eighth floor?”
    “Mrs. Slawson? Yes.”
    “Well, she’s moved to Florida.”
    “So?”
    “I’ve decided to sublet her apartment.”
    “Why?”
    “For you.”
    I haven’t been gone a whole semester and my father is already relocating me?
“Why?”
    “I figured now that you’re in college, this would give you more privacy and freedom.”
    It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask,
me or you?
“That’s a huge expense for something that will sit empty most of the year.”
    “It’s already done. I thought it was too good an opportunity to pass up. When you come home for Thanksgiving, you’ll be given your new keys.”
    My throat squeezes shut. I knew our relationship wasn’t great, but seriously? Now that he’s had a small taste of life without Laurel, he doesn’t want it to end, I guess. Don’t let the door hit you on the ass on the way out, honey.
    “Do you have anything to say?”
    Doesn’t the silence say it all, Dad?
    As soon as we hang up, I log on to my computer and go to the Colman registrar’s homepage. I type in my username and PIN, pull up my current course selections, and click on Introduction to Legal Ethics. It gives me the option to Add or Drop, and I click Drop. Then a new window opens and asks me, “Are you sure you want to drop this class?”
    Are you kidding me? Absolutely!

Chapter Eighteen
    The thought of running into Mike has me creeping around campus, sticking close to walls and lurking in shadows wherever possible. I feel like a criminal. I’ve stopped eating meals at Roebling and now go to a crappy cafeteria in the basement of one of the upper-class dorms where they have half the selection, no salad bar and only cold breakfast. Still, it’s better than running into him.
    I called the nurse at Rochester Hospital that Dr. Adler recommended, and the support group she runs meets on the last Thursday of every month at 7pm. I am twelve weeks along when I attend the first meeting. It’s held in the basement of an old church near Eastman, and as I drive near the campus, I am reminded of that first time with Mike. I push it out of my mind.
    Alison Kelly is a pretty, mild-mannered woman in, I’d guess, her early thirties. She greets me at the door with a smile and a handshake and guides me inside. There are five girls standing around a table, helping themselves to tea or bottles of water and eating from a platter of homemade cookies.
    “Ladies, this is Laurel. She’s going to sit in tonight to see if she’d like to join our group.”
    I get a series of friendly hellos from girls that are at all different stages of their pregnancies, from barely showing to looking like they’re about to explode. I’d say I’m one of the oldest ones here. One girl seems like she’s barely out of middle school, and the average age, I’d guess, is about sixteen. Alison invites us to take a seat in a circle of folding chairs