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The following year…
SOPHIE
Two truths and a lie. Have you heard of that game? It’s an icebreaker they seem to play at every corporate event I’ve ever been to. One of those excruciating ‘getting to know you’ kind of games where you have to tell two interesting facts about yourself, along with one complete lie, and everybody has to guess what the lie is.
The thing is, I suck at it. I can’t tell a lie to save my life. I have a billion tells, from my eye twitching to my feet shifting like I’m dancing toSaturday Night Fever.
Maybe that’s why I chose the profession I did. I’m expected to tell the truth. People rely on it.
The world can sometimes collapse because of it.
“And it’s over to Sophie in our weather corner,” Dan, the midday news anchor says, turning to his left where I’m standing in front of the green screen. He raises his brow expectantly.
“Hi Dan,” I smile at him, the camera light blinking.
“It’s my daughter’s wedding this weekend,” he says, steepling his fingers beneath his chin and putting on a serious expression. “Please tell me the weather is going to be fabulous for it.”
I swallow. We haven’t rehearsed this bit. We rarely do, because we’ve worked together for so long that our conversations flow.
“Um…” I’ve looked at those charts. I know the answer. “I’m sure the wedding will be fabulous no matter what the weather.”
His smile falters. And this is the part of the job I hate. You wouldn’t think it would be so difficult to be a meteorologist. Especially one whose main job is to present the weather on the local television station.
He blinks. “It’s going to be glorious sunshine, right?”
“There should only be a few spots of rain,” I say cheerily, trying to minimize the impact. “And late in the afternoon should be much better.” Or at least by then it’ll stop raining. That’s something, right?
Dan nods and says nothing. But the expression on his face is worth a thousand words. He looks like I killed his favorite puppy. There’s an awkward silence that’s suddenly pierced by the producer shouting into my earpiece for me to move on.
“But let’s get onto today’s weather,” I say, turning to the camera, trying to not wince at the volume of the screaming. “It’s getting warm out there, folks. Already in the high seventies, and we’re looking at hitting eighty-three by mid-afternoon.” I click the button in my hand that changes the greenscreen behind me and talk through the slides I made this morning until I hear a shout in my earpiece to wrap it up.
As soon as the camera is back on Dan, he gives one of his trademark smiles that makes the heart of most women over the age of fifty flutter, and like the professional he is he thanks me and reminds the viewers that I’ll be giving a full long term forecast in the next broadcast.
With the camera now firmly on the news desk, where they’re talking about an influx of fireflies, and how that’s preferable to last year’s locust infestation, I pull out my earpiece and put it in the box, then grab my files and head back to my office.
Madison, our intern, looks up as I drop the files onto my desk and let out a big sigh. Our eyes catch and I can tell that she watched the airing. She hands me a coffee she must have bought from the shop at the front of the station.
“Don’t look at Twitter,” she advises me. “People think you’ve done some sort of rain dance to spoil Dan’s daughter’s wedding.”
I grimace and take a mouthful of the latte. “Oops.”
Just then my phone rings and an unknown number flashes up.
“Sophie West, WVFY,” I say as soon as I accept the call.
“Miss West, my name’s Sam Lawson. I work for Liam Salinger. He’s asked me to liaise with you about a christening gift for your new godson.”
Two emotions hit me at once. Elation about Charlie being my godson, because I’m so happy that Ava and Myles have chosen me to be his godmother. He’s a bundle of gorgeousness and at three months he already has the best personality. Every time I see him I can’t help but feel broody. His christening is in two weeks and I’ve been helping Ava arrange everything. It’s going to be the best day.
The second emotion is annoyance. Which happens whenever I hear Liam Salinger’s name.
He promised me that things wouldn’t be awkward between us, but in the past ten months since that hugely embarrassing day he’s done nothing but antagonize me. He enjoys it. I think he might live for it.
All I know is that I kind of want to smash his face in whenever I see him. And I’m not a violent person.
It’s also not the thing you’re supposed to do to your fellow godparent. I’m pretty sure the church would frown on it. So would Ava and Myles.
So although I want to groan as soon as I hear his name, I use my grownup voice and respond.
