Read Online Famous Last Words by Jennifer Salvato Doktorski - Free Book Online Page B

over while I try to decide between going for a run and climbing back under the covers. Before I can make up my mind, my cell plays the alt-rock song AJ downloaded as my new ring tone. I’m still staring at the paper when I answer my phone.
    “What?”
    “Is that how you talk to the woman who pays your cell phone bills?”
    “Mom, sorry. I thought you were Shelby again.”
    “Great job on the story, hon. Front page! We’re so proud of you.”
    “Thanks, Mom,” I say.
    “Let’s try to eat dinner as a family when you get home. I haven’t seen you in days,” she says. “I’m not sure I like you working these late hours.”
    “I don’t mind it. I like what I’m doing.”
    “I’m glad you do, sweetie. But I miss you.”
    “Miss you too,” I say. I barely have time to disconnect before my phone rings again. I look at the screen. This time it is Shelby.
    “Hello?”
    “You were supposed to call me back.”
    “You didn’t give me a chance.”
    “We should celebrate your story. Let’s hit the pool.”
    “I can’t. I have to work.”
    Shelby sighs. “You haven’t been to the pool once since school let out.”
    “I know, I know.” For a split second, I feel nostalgic for our old summer routine. Shelby and I have logged a lot of hours at the community pool. “Maybe I’ll get there this weekend.”
    “How about tonight? Let’s do something.”
    “I’m working late. How about tomorrow night?”
    “Okaaay,” Shelby says. I hear her pouting through the phone. I try to smooth things over.
    “What happened with Hollister? Maybe you should apply to a few other places in case that job doesn’t come through. How about the shoe store?”
    “Sam,” Shelby sighs. “Unlike you, I don’t exactly mind not having a summer job.”
    Two roads diverge in the woods—I take one and Shelby takes the other. Or maybe Shelby sits down on a rock and relaxes. I almost laugh out loud.
    “Call you later,” I say, and then I hang up and reach for my running shoes.
    *   *   *
    Later that day, at work, I cut out my first front-page story and put it in my top desk drawer, where I also placed Anton’s obituary. When I look up, Tony is sitting on the corner of the obit desk. I nearly fall out of my chair, and my stomach does a back handspring.
    “Front page!” he says. “Nice.”
    “Thanks.” My face is on fire. I wonder if I look like I’m having an allergic reaction.
    AJ gives me a strange look as he passes behind Tony en route from Alice’s desk to the mailboxes, the giant U.S. Postal container in hand.
    “Come on,” Tony says. “I’m going to the deli. Let me buy you a congratulatory coffee.”
    “Okay.” I don’t particularly want or need coffee, but I can’t help it. Before I know it, I’m following him out of the newsroom like a sheep.
    “Going to the deli,” I say to AJ as I walk toward the exit with Tony. “Want anything?”
    He never looks my way, just continues to sort mail. A few awkward seconds tick away. Finally he says, “Nope. I’m good.”
    *   *   *
    On our way back to the Herald Tribune , Tony and I run into Tessie. She’s another regular at John’s Corner Deli. I see her most afternoons. She’s carrying her pink motorcycle helmet—the one that matches her Harley-Davidson parked at the curb.
    “Hey, Tessie,” I say. “Taking a break from deliveries?”
    She laughs. “I need my afternoon cup of joe,” she says.
    Tessie’s a riot. She’s got to be close to seventy, and she still rides around on her Harley delivering Avon. She told me she got bored with retirement and went into cosmetics sales.
    “She’d make a great profile,” I say to Tony as we stroll down the sidewalk. “I was going to ask Jack if I could work on it.”
    “You should. He’ll let you. You’re like the newsroom wunderkind,” he says, nudging me lightly with his shoulder.
    The sudden contact sends my heart rate straight into the aerobic zone. “No, I’m not,” I insist. “I hardly did