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he grabs my hand and pumps it so hard I feel like I should be spitting up water.
    â€œNice to see you, young lady,” he said, grabbing my hand with his firm grip and starting to pump. “Which one of Rick’s girls are you again?”
    â€œThat’s Sammie, Dad,” Spencer said.
    â€œOne day I’ll learn to tell you two apart,” Mr. Ballard said with his big, friendly laugh.
    â€œIt’s not that hard, Dad.”
    I wondered what Spencer meant by that. Did he mean that you could tell it was me from my vibrant personality and enormous personal charm? Or did he mean that you could tell it was me because I’m fatter than Charlie?
    I’m hoping for the first, guys, but I’m betting it’s the second.
    â€œWho’s your good-looking pal?” Mr. Ballard asked, as Oscar rose to his feet.
    â€œThis is Oscar Bermudez,” I said. “He’s from El Salvador.”
    Mr. Ballard grabbed Oscar’s hand and shook it vigorously.
    â€œWelcome to our shores,” Mr. Ballard said. “What brings you here?”
    â€œAn American doctor came to my town,” Oscar said. “He says he can fix my foot, so he helped me come to Los Angeles to have an operation.”
    â€œOh, at Children’s Hospital?” Mr. Ballard asked.
    Oscar nodded.
    â€œExcellent institution,” Mr. Ballard said. “It’s in my district. Who’s the doctor?”
    â€œDr. Mandel is his name, but I call him Dr. Superpower.”
    â€œAh, yes,” Mr. Ballard said with a laugh. “Very appropriate. Al Mandel is a super guy. A member of our club and a pretty good golf player, too. He’s got a five handicap.”
    â€œNo sir, I am the one with the handicap,” Oscar said.
    Mr. Ballard let out a huge laugh and slapped Oscar on the back.
    â€œI like your sense of humor,” he said. “In the meantime, Sammie, where is your grandmother? I’m having a fund-raiser here next weekend, and I want to see if she’ll whip up some of those chicken skewers and cheesy thingamajigs she’s so famous for.”
    â€œShe’s in the kitchen,” I answered.
    â€œI bet she’s slicing cantaloupe,” Spencer said, pretending to be looking in the kitchen but craning his neck to see if he could spot Charlie in the house. “She always does that for parties.”
    â€œGreat!” Mr. Ballard said. “Sliced cantaloupe is a real vote-getter in my book.”
    â€œSara says we’re good for tonight,” Alicia shouted as she came running out of the kitchen. “Oscar, you’re going to meet the Truth Tellers.”
    â€œThe Truth Tellers!” Mr. Ballard said, reaching out to shake Alicia’s hand vigorously. “I remember that group. You kids performed at the city council open meeting. You were great. Real crowd-pleasers.”
    â€œThank you, sir,” Alicia said. I was surprised to see that she suddenly got shy, but then, Mr. Ballard is a big man with a big voice and a big personality. He can be intimidating.
    â€œSay, what are you kids doing next Saturday?” he asked. “I’m having a fund-raiser here and I’d love to have you perform. I’m raising money for the schools’ arts programs. We have to make up for those budget cuts, and you guys might help motivate people to give. What do you say?”
    â€œDad, do you have to put everyone to work raising money for one of your causes?” Spencer said, embarrassed by his father’s larger-than-life behavior.
    â€œAs a matter of fact, I do,” Mr. Ballard said, letting out a big, friendly laugh. “We all care about our schools. We all need to pitch in. So . . . what do you say, ladies?”
    â€œWe’d love to,” Alicia answered. “Wouldn’t we, Sammie?”
    â€œWell, we’d have to ask Ms. Carew first. She’s our teacher.”
    â€œHow could she say no?” Alicia added quickly.