Free The Luckiest Girl by Beverly Cleary

announced.
    â€œMe?” asked Shelley as excitement shot through her. Philip! The story in the paper had given him the push he needed.
    It was Hartley Lathrop who entered the laundry behind Katie. “Hi, Shelley,” said Hartley. “Good evening, Mrs. Michie and Mr. Michie.”
    â€œWhy, Hartley!” In her surprise Shelley set the iron down flat.
    â€œI know you weren’t expecting me,” apologized Hartley, “but at the last minute I got the car. When I tried to phone, the line was busy so I thought I’d take a chance. You can throw me out if you want to.”
    â€œWhy—” Shelley was not sure what to say. She only hoped that her disappointment did not show. A scorched smell rose from her ironing board and she hastily lifted the iron.
    â€œNot a chance,” said Tom. “We’re starting sheets and can use another hand around here.”
    â€œSure,” said Hartley, pulling a sheet out of the laundry basket. He and Luke folded it in half the long way while Tom and Katie folded a second sheet. They laid the ends on the roller. “Now!” said Tom. The mangle closed and the sheets rolled through.
    Shelley wondered what Hartley would think. She could not picture any of the boys she knew at home helping with the ironing, any more than she could picture her mother or father asking them to help. Hartley seemed to be enjoying himself, so Shelley went on with her task.
    â€œI promised Shelley a trip to Vincente to sample doughnut holes,” Hartley explained as he picked up another sheet.
    â€œYou two run along,” said Mavis. “The rest of us can finish.”
    â€œNo hurry,” said Hartley, folding the sheet. When the last sheet and shirt and dirndl had been ironed, he turned to Shelley. “Shall we go?” he asked.
    â€œYes.” Shelley felt a little shy under the interested scrutiny of Katie.
    â€œThanks for the help, Hartley,” said Tom.
    â€œAnd do come over sometime when we aren’t ironing,” said Mavis. “We won’t always put Shelley’s guests to work.”
    Shelley enjoyed the drive through the warm evening. The stars seemed lower than the stars at home. Once there was a hint of moisture in the air as they passed a grove that had been irrigated that day. As they turned a corner, the headlights caught for an instant a graceful tree with foliage that trailed in the breeze. “What was that feathery tree?” she asked.
    â€œA pepper tree,” answered Hartley.
    â€œOh, of course. The tree with pink berries,” said Shelley. “Mavis sent us some at Christmas oncewhen I was in grade school and I took some to school to show the class. I felt so important.”
    Vincente looked very much like San Sebastian, though a little larger perhaps and farther from the mountains. The doughnut shop, which was near the Orange Belt College, was filled with students who had stopped in on their way from the library. They made Shelley feel young and inexperienced, but Hartley was at ease. He guided her past a rack displaying every kind of doughnut—plain, sugar coated, chocolate frosted, nut covered—into a booth, where he ordered doughnut holes and milk shakes. Then he smiled across the table at Shelley, who was enjoying the cinnamon and nutmeg fragrance of the shop. “Your hair looks nice in front, too,” he said.
    Shelley laughed and to change the subject said, “I hope you didn’t mind helping with the ironing tonight.”
    â€œNot a bit. It was fun,” answered Hartley. “The Michies made me feel like part of the family.”
    â€œI know,” said Shelley. “They made me feel that way the minute I arrived. I was so scared. I had never been away from home before except for two weeks at camp once.”
    â€œDo you like California, Shelley?” Hartley asked seriously.
    â€œI do now,” said Shelley. “At first everything looked so flat and dry and