“You’re nuts,” he said. “Dad’ll get it for me.”

“Dream on.”

At which point, we heard the sound of high heels clacking on hardwood.

“It’s SueEllen,” Heidi warned. “Better put that away.”

I looked down and realized I was still holding the macadamia nuts. I scampered over to the wet bar, and shoved them into the cupboard, just seconds before SueEllen came sashaying into the room in skin tight capris and a low cut spandex T-shirt.

“Hi, kids,” she said, flashing what I suspected was a rare smile at them. “Brad, sweetheart, feet off the sofa, please.”

Brad grudgingly flopped his feet down from the sofa.

“Well,” she said, smiling brightly, “is everybody hungry?”

Talk about your rhetorical questions.

“Shall we?” she said, gesturing to the door. Then her face puckered in annoyance.

“What’s this?” She bent down and picked up a macadamia nut that had managed to escape our clutches.

SueEllen eyed Heidi coolly.

“Is this yours?” she asked, holding out the offending nut.

Heidi looked down at the carpet, saying nothing. What a nice kid, I thought. Clearly, she didn’t want to get me in trouble.

“How many times have I told you?” Sue Ellen said, tapping her foot in annoyance. “No Between-Meal Snacks!”

“Actually,” I piped up. “It’s mine.”

“It is?” SueEllen looked almost disappointed, as if she’d been looking forward to ragging on Heidi, and I’d robbed her of the opportunity.

“Well, technically,” I said, “it’s yours. I found a jar of nuts in your wet bar. I’m sorry I opened it without asking, but I was awfully hungry.”

“You were?” she asked, amazed that anyone could possibly be hungry after the elaborate 10-calorie lunch she’d served.

“Oh, well,” she said. “No matter. Let’s go satisfy that appetite of yours, shall we, Porky?”

Okay, so she didn’t really call me Porky, but I knew that’s what she was thinking.

And as we followed SueEllen out the door, Heidi turned to me and smiled. I smiled back, happy that there was at least one person in the Kingsley clan that I could relate to.

Hal Kingsley was an older version of Brad—tall and craggy with wavy hair graying at the temples, a Marlboro Man who’d gone to med school. He sat at the head of the huge mahogany dining table, nursing a martini, silent and distant, like a guest who didn’t know the other people at the table very well.

SueEllen was at the foot of the table, barking orders to Conchi. Heidi and Brad sat across from me, looking like they’d sell their souls for an In ‘N Out Burger.

Conchi scurried around with our salad plates, eyes downcast, her dark hair falling forward on her face like a curtain she was trying to hide behind. The salad was endive and watercress in a raspberry vinaigrette dressing. It was about as filling as a piece of dental floss.

The beef bourguignon on the other hand, looked spectacular. Generous chunks of meat in a lovely brown potato-and-carrot studded sauce. Conchi came out of the kitchen with two heaping platefuls, and my salivary glands sprung into action.