Fresh tears filled her eyes, and she dug a tissue from her pocket, dabbed at her cheeks, and blew her nose. We were both quiet for a moment.
“I think I know where all of this is coming from,” she said finally, her expression growing distant. “A few weeks ago, the day after your dad called you and asked you to come, he and Brady had a big fight. Brady accused Duke of having abandoned you with your grandparents all those years and robbing him of having a brother to grow up with. And your dad, he lost his temper and…” Liz stopped as another tear slid down her cheek. She dabbed at her face. “He told Brady it was you who decided to stay. When you were eleven and we finally came for you, you didn’t want to come with us.”
I pictured the impact his words must have had. The moment Dad told him I’d chosen not to come, Brady’s hurt and anger must have jumped from our father to me.
“Duke wasn’t trying to throw you under the bus, Tyler, please don’t think that,” Liz said. “He didn’t mean to deflect the blame or to drive a wedge between you and your brother. He was just trying to get Brady to understand that the situation back then hadn’t been so cut and dried. It was more…complicated than that. For all of us.”
I swallowed hard, feeling in the midst of my dismay a strong sense of relief as well. At least I knew now what was wrong, what had happened to make Brady’s behavior toward me change so drastically.
Which meant I could set things to right at last.
“Should I go up there and apologize?” I asked. “That’s what I’d like to do, but I’m not sure if this is the best time.”
She shook her head. “Give him some space. Now that he’s gotten that off his chest, I think he might need to settle down. Catch his breath. Maybe understand that what he’s feeling isn’t so much anger as it is hurt.”
I nodded. “I can’t believe I never thought about this before. Of course he’s hurt. I would be too if I were him.”
Then I realized that at the very least I could apologize to her. After all, I had unknowingly rejected her as my stepmother as well. I had not meant to communicate rejection—the Lord knows I was only eleven years old—but I had. I was too young to see it then and apparently had been blinded to it as I grew. I might have picked up on it later, except Dad never mentioned that day again. And neither had Liz. I grew up thinking I was the only one who had something to gain or lose that day.
“I’m sorry, Liz, if my decision hurt you too.”
She held up a hand, palm out, as if to deflect my words. “Like I said, you were just a child. I would never hold you accountable for that choice. No way. I’ll try talking to him first.” Liz dug in her pocket for another tissue.
“Thanks,” I said. Then I told her I’d be back later, that I needed to clear my head as well.
Still in a daze, I went to the garage, took the bike and helmet from the rack, and headed off into the hazy afternoon sunshine for a long ride, hoping it might help me to sort things out.
It didn’t. By the time I returned, Brady was gone, off to spend the night at a friend’s house. Liz told me she’d tried talking to him a bit, tried to explain more about the situation and why he shouldn’t blame me for all that had happened back then.
“But to be honest,” she added, “I don’t think I got through to him. Maybe he’ll think on it some more while he’s gone. You never know.”
I thanked her and headed upstairs. In my room, I took out pen and paper and wrote a long letter to Rachel, finally shedding a few tears of my own. It seemed that in a single day I had managed to alienate two of the most important people in my life. For now, all that was left to do was attempt to mend these fences and to pray.
And so pray I did, on my knees at the side of the bed, for more than an hour. During that time, I slowly came to understand something important, that the Lord was not nearly as concerned with where I lived my life, but how I lived it. I had chosen once before, as a child. And I was choosing again now, as an adult. I told God I wanted to spend my life in Lancaster County as a member of the Amish church, married to Rachel, and living in simplicity, surrender, and service to my community and Him. This was my decision to make, but I also felt strongly that it was God’s will for my life.
When my prayer time was done, I grabbed pen and paper, climbed onto the bed, and wrote out three very important letters.
The first one was for the bishop, telling him I had heard my answer from God and that I was ready for the membership class and to take my vows.