She said that Jay’s mom had gone to work once she’d found out Jay was all right. He was glad, in a way, that she wasn’t there—and maybe mad at him. He was hoping to go off to his room, since he didn’t really want to see anyone. He knew Grandpa was right, that he had to look everyone in the eye, but he was scared to get started. “I decided to cook my Sunday roast today,” Grandma told him. “With lots of potatoes and gravy, because I know you like that. But maybe I should have fixed you bread and water, and maybe I should give you a darned good spanking. We were awfully worried about you, Jay.” She was stirring the gravy, but she put her spoon down and walked to him. Then she pulled him to her and held him tight for a long time. “Don’t ever scare us like that again. Okay?” “Okay.” “Were you mad at us?” “No. I just . . .” But Jay had no idea what to tell her. “It never does any good to run away from things. Do you know that?” “Yeah. Grandpa already told me that.”
