Ali left nothing out: Cassie’s apology, Murray’s excitement. Now and then her mother asked questions of clarification. Digger said nothing. When Ali got to the part where she turned into a mouse and couldn’t change back, he slipped into dog mode and crept under the table.

“But everything’s okay,” Ali called down to him. “They won’t tell anyone.”

Ali’s mother stuck her head under the table. “Come out, Digger. Ali’s right; if they were going to tell someone else, they already would have.”

Digger crawled out from under the table and became himself again. “We should have practiced changing into animals last night,” he muttered. “There’s so much you need to learn.”

“We can practice after supper,” Ali offered, but her suggestion didn’t improve his mood.

There was a splutter as the pasta pot began to boil over. Ali’s mother jumped up and raced to turn down the heat. “Did everything go okay with Emily?” she called over her shoulder.

“It was great. We did our organism inventory at King’s Square, and then we went down to Tin Can Beach and visited the stranded seals. There were some nice scientists there. They were impressed by how much Emily and I knew about classification systems. And guess what?”

“What?”

“Digger knows Emily’s mother.”

Ali’s mom crossed her arms and smiled at Digger. “Another old girlfriend?”

“A friend,” Digger corrected. “If she liked anyone, she liked Teddy. Like I said, all the girls liked Teddy.”

“So you keep telling me.”

Digger seemed anxious to change the subject. “Do you know what Ali’s done? She’s decided to throw a birthday party for Gigi. And she got Tina Arai to give her all kinds of party things.”

“She wasn’t using them!” Ali protested. “Besides, we should throw her a party! Turning one hundred is a big deal!”

Her mother was as enthusiastic as she’d hoped. “That’s a great idea!”

“It’ll be a movie-themed party. You know, because Gigi loves Walter Pidgeon so much.”

“That sounds fun. Her birthday is a week from this Saturday. Why don’t we do it then?” Ali could tell her mother was getting excited. “Who will we invite? Her neighbors, her—”

“Not too many people,” begged Digger.

“I invited Alfie,” said Ali.

The room went quiet. “What did he say?” asked Digger.

“He wants to come, but he won’t unless the rest of his family comes, and they won’t unless his grandfather does.”

“Then don’t expect Alfie” was Digger’s bitter reply.

Ali’s mother drained the pasta water through a colander and began to heap four plates with spaghetti and sauce. “We should invite them,” she said as she placed the plates on the table.

“Alfie’s going to ask him,” said Ali. Digger snorted.