have you two been doing?” After a moment, when neither Spencer nor Kate offered an answer, Bunny continued. “No matter. Go wash up so you can set the table.”
Kate dashed out of the room without protesting, but Spencer hung back. “Is Uncle Mark coming? To dinner?” He looked up at Bunny hopefully. Since stomping out of the council meeting that afternoon, Spencer hadn’t seen Uncle Mark. If he came to dinner, maybe Spencer could talk to him about the mission again . . .
“No, dear, just you and the Weavers tonight!” Bunny said cheerfully, turning back to her cooking. “I believe your uncle’s at Raymond’s with B.D. They usually work out mission details there.” Spencer’s shoulders slumped. Uncle Mark and B.D. were planning without him. “Now, off you go! Your mother would not approve of me putting food into those filthy hands of yours!”
Spencer shoved his hands in his pockets and retreated to his bedroom to get ready for dinner. Just because he wasn’t planning the mission with Uncle Mark and B.D. didn’t mean he wasn’t going. His training had begun, and he had plans of his own.
The Weavers’ dining room table looked big enough to land a plane on. Wide, cushioned benches surrounded it, making space for at least twenty bears to sit comfortably, and three gleaming beehive-shaped chandeliers hung above, filling the room with a honey-colored light.
Spencer was relieved that Bunny had handed him only nine huge plates to set on the table. He didn’t think he could carry even one more of the enormous disks of polished wood.
The plates clattered when Spencer set them down, and Kate jumped out from under the table at the sound.
“Oops,” he said, and looked back at the door to make sure nobody else had heard. “What are you doing under there?” he asked.
She scooted back under the table without answering. A moment later, two extra cushions appeared on one of the benches. “They’re for cubs,” she explained, and then looked at him pointedly. “And cub-sized humans.”
Spencer didn’t like the idea of having to sit on extra cushions, even if the table was made for bears. He wasn’t a baby.
“Go ahead if you don’t believe me,” Kate said, waggling a paw at an unbolstered bench. Spencer satdown and Kate hopped up beside him. She reached her neck forward and rested her muzzle on the table. Spencer burst out laughing. Leaning forward, he rested his chin on the polished wood. Only their heads cleared it. Extra cushions it is.
Spencer scooted over to settle himself on top of one of the two higher seats that Kate had assembled. His chest and shoulders were now above the surface of the table, and he began to relax, enjoying the feeling that he wasn’t quite so out of place in Bearhaven after all.
Just then, Professor Weaver walked into the dining room. “Kate, I believe your mother could use some help in the kitchen.” He took a seat at the head of the table.
Kate hopped down and scooted toward the door. “Okay, I’ll tell Jo-Jo and Winston,” she called over her shoulder.
Professor Weaver chuckled. “I think we both know that’s not what I meant.”
Kate stopped a few steps from the door.
“I can help, too,” Spencer offered. He wanted to get a glimpse at whatever it was they were having for dinner. If it was grubs or something, he’d need to be prepared.
“No, no, that’s okay, Spencer. Kate, go on upstairs. Let’s not make our guest prepare his own welcome dinner.”
Professor Weaver looked at his youngest cub warmly, but even through the BEAR-COM Spencer could tell that the professor meant business. Kate huffed and flounced out of the room.
“Your uncle tells me that you enjoy working with technology,” Professor Weaver said, turning back to Spencer and clasping his paws on the table.
“Yeah!” Spencer exclaimed, sounding a bit more enthusiastic than he’d planned. This is perfect, he thought, preparing to dig for more information. “I’ve taken apart this
Kate dashed out of the room without protesting, but Spencer hung back. “Is Uncle Mark coming? To dinner?” He looked up at Bunny hopefully. Since stomping out of the council meeting that afternoon, Spencer hadn’t seen Uncle Mark. If he came to dinner, maybe Spencer could talk to him about the mission again . . .
“No, dear, just you and the Weavers tonight!” Bunny said cheerfully, turning back to her cooking. “I believe your uncle’s at Raymond’s with B.D. They usually work out mission details there.” Spencer’s shoulders slumped. Uncle Mark and B.D. were planning without him. “Now, off you go! Your mother would not approve of me putting food into those filthy hands of yours!”
Spencer shoved his hands in his pockets and retreated to his bedroom to get ready for dinner. Just because he wasn’t planning the mission with Uncle Mark and B.D. didn’t mean he wasn’t going. His training had begun, and he had plans of his own.
The Weavers’ dining room table looked big enough to land a plane on. Wide, cushioned benches surrounded it, making space for at least twenty bears to sit comfortably, and three gleaming beehive-shaped chandeliers hung above, filling the room with a honey-colored light.
Spencer was relieved that Bunny had handed him only nine huge plates to set on the table. He didn’t think he could carry even one more of the enormous disks of polished wood.
The plates clattered when Spencer set them down, and Kate jumped out from under the table at the sound.
“Oops,” he said, and looked back at the door to make sure nobody else had heard. “What are you doing under there?” he asked.
She scooted back under the table without answering. A moment later, two extra cushions appeared on one of the benches. “They’re for cubs,” she explained, and then looked at him pointedly. “And cub-sized humans.”
Spencer didn’t like the idea of having to sit on extra cushions, even if the table was made for bears. He wasn’t a baby.
“Go ahead if you don’t believe me,” Kate said, waggling a paw at an unbolstered bench. Spencer satdown and Kate hopped up beside him. She reached her neck forward and rested her muzzle on the table. Spencer burst out laughing. Leaning forward, he rested his chin on the polished wood. Only their heads cleared it. Extra cushions it is.
Spencer scooted over to settle himself on top of one of the two higher seats that Kate had assembled. His chest and shoulders were now above the surface of the table, and he began to relax, enjoying the feeling that he wasn’t quite so out of place in Bearhaven after all.
Just then, Professor Weaver walked into the dining room. “Kate, I believe your mother could use some help in the kitchen.” He took a seat at the head of the table.
Kate hopped down and scooted toward the door. “Okay, I’ll tell Jo-Jo and Winston,” she called over her shoulder.
Professor Weaver chuckled. “I think we both know that’s not what I meant.”
Kate stopped a few steps from the door.
“I can help, too,” Spencer offered. He wanted to get a glimpse at whatever it was they were having for dinner. If it was grubs or something, he’d need to be prepared.
“No, no, that’s okay, Spencer. Kate, go on upstairs. Let’s not make our guest prepare his own welcome dinner.”
Professor Weaver looked at his youngest cub warmly, but even through the BEAR-COM Spencer could tell that the professor meant business. Kate huffed and flounced out of the room.
“Your uncle tells me that you enjoy working with technology,” Professor Weaver said, turning back to Spencer and clasping his paws on the table.
“Yeah!” Spencer exclaimed, sounding a bit more enthusiastic than he’d planned. This is perfect, he thought, preparing to dig for more information. “I’ve taken apart this
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