Paws and Effect Read Online Free Page B

extra emphasis on the last two words.
    â€œI’m starting to think I know where this is going,” I said. “You thought you’d use the powdered milk.”
    Marcus nodded.
    I turned back to Dani. “But?”
    â€œJohn also had a bag of plaster of Paris in his backpack.”
    â€œNo,” I said.
    John’s head was bobbing up and down. “Yes.”
    â€œYou could have put a label on the bag.” Marcus leaned forward to look at John.
    â€œHey, plaster of Paris and powdered milk don’t exactly look that much alike.” John was laughing.
    â€œThey do at five in the morning when you’re sleep-deprived.”
    I leaned against Marcus for a moment, feeling the warmth of his body through the fabric of his shirt. “So what happened to the oatmeal?”
    Travis spoke up before anyone could answer. “You know how people say stuff like that is good for you because it sticks with you?”
    â€œI do,” I said.
    â€œLucky for Marcus that oatmeal stuck with the pot so nobody actually ate it.”
    John turned to look at him, waving one hand in the air. “No, that’s not true. We actually managed to get it out of the pot. It was like a big cylindrical boulder. We just rolled it into the trees. I think Dr. Hemmingsmade one of her grad students carry it back to campus so she could use it as a doorstop. She thought it was some kind of unusual rock formation.”
    â€œOkay, I know you’re making that up,” I said, shaking with laughter.
    John put a hand over his heart. “Sadly, I’m not.”
    â€œSo what did you all do for breakfast?”
    â€œMarcus hiked out to the road, thumbed a ride to McDonald’s and came back with Egg McMuffins for everyone.” Dani smiled at him again.
    â€œPretty much saved the day,” Travis said, an edge of sarcasm in his voice.
    â€œWait a minute.” I gestured at Dani. “You said John had Pop-Tarts in his backpack. Why didn’t you eat those?”
    John raised a hand skyward as though he were in a classroom. “I know this,” he said. “Pick me! Pick me.”
    Dani rolled her eyes at him. She didn’t seem as tense now.
    â€œGo ahead,” I said to John.
    â€œWhen Chef Marcus here was foraging for powdered milk he left my backpack outside the tent and a raccoon took the Pop-Tarts, the Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and two pairs of my socks.”
    â€œThat was a long time ago,” Marcus said with a smile.
    I smiled. “And for the record, Marcus is a vey good cook now.”
    â€œBack then the problem wasn’t a lack of cooking skills,” Travis said. “It was taking something you had no business putting your hands on.”
    The table grew silent. John exhaled and shook hishead, muttering something I didn’t catch. Dani closed her eyes, resting her forehead on her hand. Marcus went into police officer mode. He set his cup and then his napkin on the table with precise, economical movements. Then he turned his attention to Travis. “This isn’t the time or the place for whatever problem you have with me.”
    â€œTrav, don’t do this,” John said. He stood up. “We should get going.”
    â€œI’m just sharing stories with Marcus’s girlfriend about the good old days,” Travis said. He was talking to John, but his eyes never left Marcus’s face.
    This was where my mother would say, “Fish or cut bait.” Actually, she’d probably use a more colorful expression that involved getting off a pot but the sentiment was the same.
    â€œIt was good to meet all of you,” I said. “But I have to get going as well.” I stood up and reached down to rest my hand on Marcus’s shoulder. I was just like Owen with his paw on a kitty treat: I was marking my territory.
    â€œI see the women in your life still rush to your defense,” Travis commented, one hand playing with his coffee