Page 76 of Down My Chimney

I shifted onto my back, and this time, he came with me, snuggling up under my arm as I raised the camera overhead. We both smiled up at it.

“I want you all to know that you’re good enough,” I said, looking right at the camera. “Even when things are hard, even when you feel like you don’t measure up. Even when you wonder if anyone even likes you. You are enough, and you are worth it, and I hope you feel loved and know how much you matter. Merry Christmas.”

I stopped recording and put the phone down, then turned to Henry, who was smiling widely.

“Still don’t think it was too cheesy?” I asked.

“No. I think it was just cheesy enough.”

It only took a couple of minutes to edit the video. My thumb hovered over my phone when I was done. Henry squeezed my free hand, and with a deep breath, I pushedpost.

“There,” I said. “Done.”

“How do you feel?” he asked.

I laughed shakily. “Good? And terrified, maybe? And weirdly exhausted, considering I only woke up half an hour ago.”

He wrapped an arm around my waist. “Well, if it helps, I feel loved, and worth it, and like I’m enough.”

I snorted. “You’re going to tease me about that forever, aren’t you?”

“I’m not teasing!” he protested. “I thought it was really sweet! I’m just saying, I think you might have a career as a motivational speaker in front of you.”

“Oh God. Don’t you dare say that in front of my parents, or they’ll start booking auditoriums for January.”

Henry laughed. “Speaking of parents, you feel up for some breakfast?”

I nodded. “Let’s go. I want to see my dad spit out his smoothie when we tell them.”

I left my phone in my bedroom when we went upstairs. I was sure the notifications I’d get would be positive. Pretty sure, anyway. But I didn’t want to be tempted to check.

My dad wasn’t actually drinking a smoothie when we got up to the top floor, but he and my mom, plus Henry’s parents, were all sitting around the Christmas tree in the living room, eating omelettes Phil had made. My dad’s looked like it was all egg whites and green vegetables, but I saw him filch a piece of bacon off my mom’s plate when she wasn’t looking.

I followed Henry into the kitchen to get some coffee. He picked up a muffin from a basket on the counter and offered it to me, but I shook my head. I was too nervous to eat, so I let him lead us back into the living room. My mom squealed when she noticed what we were wearing.

“Oh my goodness, you boys are so cute!” she said when we sat down. “Stay just like that. I need to get a picture.”

“Mom,” I began, but complaining was useless. She’d already set her plate down and was searching for her phone on the coffee table.

Woody eyed her omelette hungrily, but I blocked him with my leg. Henry, meanwhile, used his foot to surreptitiously shove his briefs from last night farther under the couch.

“Alright, get closer.” My mom motioned the two of us together as she raised her phone. “Blake, can you—oh, that’s perfect,” she said as I slipped an arm around Henry’s waist. I wondered if anyone even realized that normally, I’d have put it around his shoulder. “Now, saycheese! One, two—”

“Oh my God!” My sister’s voice cut my mom off, screeching from two floors below. “Blake? Blake and Henry? Are you kidding me?!”

“They’re up here if you’re looking for them,” my dad called down, but I looked at Henry and winced. I had a feeling Claire wasn’t just shouting because she wanted to know where we were.

“Fliss! Did you see this?” Claire’s voice was still loud enough to ring through the entire house.

I turned to my parents. It was now or never. “So, uh, there’s something I wanted to tell you guys. Well, thatwewanted to tell you,” I corrected myself.

“What is it, sweetheart?” my mom asked, but before I could say anything else, the sound of Claire and Fliss pounding up the stairs filled the cabin. Twenty seconds later, they emerged on the top floor, breathless.

Claire had a face mask on, and Fliss was clenching a toothbrush in between her teeth, but they were both holding their phones, their eyes wide.

“Are you serious?” Claire demanded when she reached the cluster of couches. She looked at me. “Is this a joke, or are you for real?”

“Is what a joke?” my dad asked.

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