Page 77 of Down My Chimney

“Check Blake’s Instagram,” she said.

Henry leaned over to me. “Your family follows you on Instagram?”

“I don’t know. I have thousands of followers, I don’t keep track.” I looked back at my mom and dad. “Do you guys?”

They both nodded. So did Phil, with a sheepish shrug.

“Of course,” my dad said. “How are we supposed to help you with your career if we can’t see your content?”

“You don’t have to help me with my career,” I grumbled, before realizing I was focusing on the wrong thing. I could remind my parents that I was only twenty-one and didn’thavea career later. We needed to stick to the topic at hand. “But that’s a good segue into what I wanted to talk to you about. Though now that I think about it, you would have found out sooner or later if you really do—”

“Are you dropping out after all?” my mom burst out. “Oh, we should have seen this coming. Sweetheart, we will support you, but have you really thought this through? I mean, you haven’t even set up an LLC yet. The tax implications alone are huge.”

“We should call Nestor,” my dad said with a nod. “Our accountant,” he added when he saw my confusion. “He can get you set up, there’s still time to do it before the end of the year. An LLC, or maybe even an S-Corp, depending on your earnings. Jo, do you still have those—”

“I’m not dropping out!” I said before they could get even more carried away. “Please, it’s not—it’s not that.”

They looked baffled.

“Then what is it, honey?” my mom asked. “What’s Claire so worked up over?”

“This!” Fliss said, pulling the toothbrush out of her mouth and brandishing her phone. But the screen had gone dark, and everyone just stared at her blankly.

“Oh, dammit,” she said. “Hold on, just give me a sec.”

“Oh my God,” I groaned. “Look, it’s faster to just show you than explain.”

“Show us what?” my dad asked.

I turned to Henry, put my hands on either side of his face, and pulled him in for a kiss.

The room went silent. Even the dogs stopped snuffling around. Henry didn’t move at first, but slowly his posture softened, and he leaned into the kiss. I licked at his lower lip, savoring the moment before pulling away. When I opened my eyes, he grinned at me. He took my hand, and we turned back to face our parents.

“That’s—but you two are—but that’s—” my mom stammered.

“How long have you been…” my dad began, before trailing off.

“Are you boys really—I mean, is this—” Cindy gestured at the two of us vaguely, not even noticing as Bella stole a piece of bacon off her plate.

Phil was the only one not staring at us, and that was because he was staring at his phone instead. I could hear my video playing softly from it.

“Oh, wow,” he said quietly. He nudged Cindy with his leg, holding the phone out to her. Claire hurried around behind my parents and stuck her arm in between them, playing the video again.

“Wow,” Phil repeated when they’d all finished watching. He looked up at us both. “I had no idea.”

“That was kind of the point,” Henry said. “For a while, anyway.”

“But not anymore.” I squeezed his hand. “We didn’t want to hide this from you. Or anyone.” I looked at my parents. “I just hope you’re okay with it.”

My mom’s face broke into a smile. “Of course we’re okay with it. We’re thrilled, sweetheart.”

She jumped up and crossed over to me, pulling me into a hug. My dad did the same thing, patting me on the back before saying, “Proud of you, kid.”

Then they both hugged Henry, which led tohisparents hugging us, and Claire and Fliss coming over to offer their versions of congratulations, which consisted of Fliss swatting the top of Henry’s head and saying, “Way to not tell me, asshole,” and Claire poking my shoulder and whispering, “Nice catch, dumbass.”

Even Woody and Bella got in on the action, realizing something exciting was happening. Woody jumped up and down, barking and trying to get me to play with him. But he seemed happy enough to settle on the couch next to me after a minute. Bella put her snout on Henry’s leg when he sat back down, probably hoping he was going to drop some food.

“This calls for a celebration. Who wants mimosas?” my dad asked.

---