Landru bounded and ran and sniffed and barked and chased after the croquet ball John had brought with him. He started at one point to run into the pond, but a sharp word from the teenager brought him back. After a good thirty minutes John said "Home, boy," and the dog ran off while his master followed at a much slower pace.
His mom was back by the time he arrived. "Set the table," she said from the kitchen as he walked past.
"Hi mom," he replied, stepping back to stand in the door frame.
"Hi honey. Set the table?"
He looked around. "Are we all eating together tonight?"
She looked up from the pot she'd set on the stove. "Don't you want to eat with your mother?" she said with the gravity of a woman who knows she is making her son feel guilty, and hating herself for it, but is unable to stop herself. When John winced, she relented with a sigh. "You boys can eat in your room again. Like always."
"Mom, if you want us to--"
"No, it's alright. I have some work I have to do anyway."
"Where's Jan?"
"I sent him to the store. How's Landru?"
"Exhausted. My brother will forget stuff, you know."
She gave him a look. "You wanna chase after him, hold his hand?"
"It'll piss him off," John grinned.
"Don't use bad words, sweetheart. He's got the list. But here--" She jotted on a slip of paper as the water heated. "You have money?"
"Enough for these things," John replied as he glanced at the list, and dashed out the door.