The old silver tinsel still hangs upon the Christmas tree, and the chimney has stockings dangling, one of them still filled to brim with gifts.

The late-day winter sun shines through the bay window leaving a streak across the wooden floor. There's a heaviness in the room that makes my chest hurt. Tyler, my fifteen year old son sits curled up on the couch, head buried in one of his handheld video games, while I sip the cocoa from my favorite holiday mug.

Christmas has come and gone, but Tyler insisted we leave the tree up. I'm itching to take it down, but for him I'd do anything. I'm almost about to give up on his sliver of hope that his dad will show up. Tyler was a surprise for us at sixteen, but we made it work, Always. Until two months ago when things went awry. I respected his desire to go work in LA, even encouraged him to pursue his dreams in Television, but I never expected the communication to fall or the empty promises to seep into our semi-perfect relationship.

Tyler glances up at the door as if his dad will walk through like he said he would on Christmas, but never showed. My own attention drifts to the door and for a moment I'm stuck staring at the wreath Tyler made in elementary school. It still sits in the same location as it did every holiday. It's old, starting to fall apart. Like us.

"What do you want for dinner?" I ask, taking a sip from my mug.

Tyler shrugs. The usual teenage response. His game captures his attention once more and the room grows quiet. Instead of sitting around I head for the kitchen.

I scoop my cell up from the old wooden table in the center of the kitchen. I don't know what I'm expecting. The last text I got from him was to say he wasn't coming. I hate that I still love him, hate that Tyler is so disappointed and heartbroken. The selfish part of me wishes I never would have told him it was okay to leave.

I blink away the tears and try to gather the strength to take care of my son and myself. The fridge is well-stocked. I came to the decision to make Tyler's favorite meal for dinner, and pull out the chop meat for tacos. While it's not Tuesday, I want to see some kind of reaction in my son, and not just the zombified version he's been demonstrating since Christmas.

As I cook the onion, garlic, and cumin mix together, sending a mixture of spicy goodness into the air. The floorboards of our old colonial creak under Tyler's weight. Spinning around, I find him studying the table. I've laid out all the extra ingredients from the taco shells to the fillings into a divided plate.

"I thought we'd do taco night," I say, mustering the best smile I can.

His lips curl upward in a brief smile. "It's not Tuesday."

My laughter fills the room, it's nice to hear him joke with me. The past week I've watched him grab a pop tart on the way out the door to school, come home barely say hi, work on his assignments, bury his head in his games, then silently sit with me at the dinner table. To see the smile makes my heart jump for joy.

"Get your plate ready, because this is almost done."

I finish swirling around the meat for a few more seconds, then flip off the burner. Tyler is right there behind me as I swing around, waiting with three large shells. He's a growing boy that's for sure. I never knew how much food a teenage boy consumed, but living with one now I see what everyone is talking about.

We settle down at the table.

"Oh, mom, so the winter formal is coming up and I really want to get a new tux, my old one is too short on my legs."

I smile. This is the most he's said since Christmas. "Yeah, of course. We can go shopping tomorrow."

"Good. Oh and what is a corsage and how do I get one?"

I purse my lips, a grin developing behind them "A corsage, eh?"

His cheeks light up like a Christmas tree. On his plate are extra droppings of taco meat and he swirls them around with a fork, before catching my gaze.

"I asked Suzie Tomkin to go with me, and she said yes. Told me the color of her dress and said I'm supposed to get her one."

"Lydia's daughter? Ah! I'm so excited for you." I clap my hands and Tyler rolls his eyes but grins at the same time.

"We can stop by Maria's Flowers right after we hit the mall for a new tux. We'll make a day out of it. I mean unless you don't want to go shopping with your excited-"

The front door opens, and the house trembles as the door closes and someone stomps their feet on the floor. Tyler's eyes widen and he drops the fork onto his plate. I jump from the clunk as it hits the ceramic. My own taco slips from my hand. Before I can stand, Tyler is already running.

My chair falls behind me and I follow in behind him just in time to watch him fly into the arms of his father. He hasn't even finished shaking the snow from his heavy black boots, when he wraps his arms around his son.

Tyler's shoulders shake. I gasp as Danny's gray flecked eyes meet mine over Tyler's shoulder. I expected him to be a new man, changed in every way, but he's still the same man who left all those months ago. A little more dark scruff grazes his round face, but his eyes are unchanging.

By some miracle he's here, and every horrible thought and curse that I've wanted to throw at him slips away. When Tyler finally let's go, and Danny wipes away his son's tears, his attention is fully drawn on me. His hooded eyes speak a thousand unspoken apologies.

I'm frozen in place, unsure if I'll ever be able to move. Danny removes his black scarf and jacket, placing it on the golden rack beside the door. His gaze meets mine as he crosses the room. We stand toe to toe unmoving just watching each other's reaction, waiting to see who will be the first to reach out.

My eyes sting, and nose itches, but before the tears can fall his coarse fingers stop them as he swipes his thumb across the underside of my eye.

"God, I missed you so much." His voice is rough, edgy, and cracks on the last word.

I wrap my entire body around him and sob into his warmth, despite the below freezing temps outside, he's still warm, radiating his usual heat onto me, covering me in a blanket of his love.

"I'm home, for good," he says.

Tyler stands beside him, glancing up at his dad as if he is taking in every inch of him in case he disappears again.

"What do you mean?" I ask, pulling away, wiping the remaining tears.

"I mean, I quit. My dream might be out there, but I left my heart here, and I can't do that again."

"But you -"

Reaching into his back pocket he takes my hand in his free one, and gets down on one knee. In my peripheral I catch sight of Tyler's eyes lighting up as he covers his mouth at the scene playing out in front of him.

"I know it's taken me fifteen years to do this, but being away from you is the last thing I ever wanted, it made me realize so many things, and I never want to be apart from you again. I hope you'll forgive me and can find it in your heart to love me how you always have. And if it's okay with you," he turns to Tyler.

Tyler nods so fast, like he's been waiting for this moment all his life. Seeing his smile for the first time in weeks makes my heart full again.

Turning back to me he grins. "Rachel Evelyn Donovan, will you do me the great honor of being my wife."

I can't seem to find the words so I nod, and squeak out what I think is a yes, but I can't tell under my trembling voice. When he pulls me up into his arms he grabs Tyler too. Over and over he tells us he's planting his feet here with us in New York, where we can all be together again.

THE END