This wasn’t over.
On Wednesday morning I got up well before dawn to pray and ask God’s favor on my remaining few days in Newport Beach. I didn’t want to return to Lancaster County with unfinished business between my dad and my brother and me. It was clear to me now that this was the prime reason God had orchestrated that I come here. My decision to join the Amish church would affect my Englisch family, but it didn’t have to affect them negatively. I had already come up with a few ideas on how to ensure that it didn’t, but I had to deal with the unresolved issues of the past before charting a plan for the future.
All morning as I finished up the work on detailing my dad’s car, I thought about the questions I wanted to ask him. Liz wasn’t up to the long car ride, so I would be going alone to pick up my father. That meant he and I would have a chance to talk privately. He’d be tired from flying across multiple time zones, of course, but I thought it was important that he and I iron things out as soon as possible. I needed to make things right here, with everyone, so that I could go home and make things right there as well.
According to Liz, getting to LAX was going to be a much bigger ordeal than going to the John Wayne airport would have been. But this was my dad’s only option, thanks to his point of origin, and so I steeled myself for the forty-mile drive. She’d tried to prepare me about the traffic congestion I would likely run into on the 405, and so I left extra early, hoping not to stress myself more than necessary.
She’d been right about the traffic. The sheer volume of cars and drivers was staggering. On the other hand, that made for a slower pace overall, which was worth it. In the end, I used the sluggish commute to continue to pray to God for wisdom and discernment.
With the GPS guiding me, I was able to find the turnoff for LAX and the right parking structure for Dad’s arrival gate. He texted me when his plane landed, just a few minutes late, and again when he collected his bag and entered customs. The plan was to meet in the Ground Transportation area, so I headed there and found a bench along a wall. Forty-five minutes later, he finally emerged, bags in hand and a weary smile on his face.
I took the suitcase from him, and with his free hand he clapped me on the back. “Man, it’s good to be home.”
“I’m sorry you had to cut things short, but I’m really glad you’re here too.”
We headed for the parking structure.
“How is Liz?” he asked as we walked. “She keeps playing things down on the phone, but I know her well enough to know she’s not giving me the whole truth.”
“She really is okay, I think. She was in a lot of pain at first, but she seems to have finally figured out that the less she does, the less it hurts.”
“Good. Glad to hear it.”
As we neared the car, Dad said he was hungry and wanted to stop off and eat somewhere on the way home. I was relieved, especially because I had a feeling his true intention for the stop was to give the two of us time to talk. We both knew there were things that needed to be said.
“There’s a coffee and pie place in Huntington Beach where we can eat,” he added. “I’ll drive if you want. Although you must have gotten here okay because you’re still in one piece.”
I reached into my pocket for the car keys and handed them over. “That would be fine with me.”
Soon we were on the road, where Dad wove his way through the heavy traffic with ease, telling me all about his trip as we went. Forty minutes later, we were seated at a window table with a cup of coffee each and slices of triple berry pie.
Once the waitress had delivered our food, Dad finally launched into what was on both of our minds. “Liz told me all about the blowup with Brady on Saturday. I feel terrible about it. I never should have said to him what I did. You have no idea how much I regret it.”
“I understand.”
“I know you think you do, but I was so out of line, Tyler. He was accusing me of abandoning you and depriving him of having you for a brother. And I just…I couldn’t let him think that about me. It was bad enough him knowing I had dumped you on your grandparents when you were six and then leaving you there. When he accused me of never going back for you, I lost it. I didn’t stop to think that knowledge might change his relationship with you. Now that I know it did, I wish I could take it back.”
“It’s okay. It has to be okay. It’s the truth.”
“But he didn’t have to hear it like that.”
We were both quiet for a moment.
“Daadi and Mammi gave me a good life, Dad. I was happy there. I am happy there.”
He winced slightly. “But you shouldn’t have had to find your happiness outside of what I could provide for you. I’m your father.”
“But you did provide it for me. You gave me Daadi and Mammi and all my uncles and aunts by letting them raise me.”