“No! I mean yes! I don’t mean I’m going to stop here.” She sat up and bounced off the couch. Restlessness was building in her chest, in her legs, and she started to pace her apartment. “I’m going to keep my eye out for opportunities. I’m not going to be an assistant at Du Jour forever. It’s just that I’m happy there for now, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“We never said there was.” Her dad sounded surprised.

“No, I know, but…” But what?

“You’ve got plenty of time to decide,” her mom said soothingly. “Lots of life to live. You’ll figure out what will make you happy.”

Will I? You don’t want to know what’s making me happy right now. Maybe they had a point, though. What would make her happy in the long run?

“Uh, Vivian’s pregnancy is coming along,” she blurted out without meaning to.

A second of silence, and then her dad let her change the subject. “Yeah?”

“The next ultrasound is in two days.” She bit her lip.

“Oh? Is that where she finds out what sex it is?”

Her heart skipped a beat at the thought. “Yes. Pretty cool, huh?”

“I remember when we learned that you and your sister were girls,” her mom chimed in. “It made everything feel real, especially with Robin.”

It made everything feel real. In spite of how closely Jules had been tied to all of it, sometimes Vivian’s pregnancy still felt like a dream, like a baby wasn’t really coming. Would the ultrasound change that? “Yeah,” Jules murmured. “That makes sense.”

“Remember what I said at Christmas, though,” her dad said.

For a second, all Jules could remember was how her parents had believed Vivian was sexually harassing her. Her eyes went wide. “What?”

“She’s asking so much of you. Don’t forget to set appropriate boundaries.”

“Uh…”

“Your father’s right. If you’re ambitious, you can’t be changing diapers for your boss’s kid.”

At least the sexual harassment concerns seemed to be off the table. Jules’s face burned anyway. “I’m still kind of excited, though. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Boundaries,” her dad repeated firmly. “Remember that.”

Boundaries. After the call, the word went round and round in Jules’s head as she looked out her window onto Clinton Street below. The smoke shop across the street was closed. The pizza place was still open, the sign lit up with its picture of a smiling slice. It was nearly nine o’clock, but the tables were still full of people who had their own lives, priorities, and secrets.