do my best to avert my eyes and ignore their oohs and ahhs because yes, there are literal oohs and ahhs coming from the women I pass. I'm used to it.
I wear glasses and have been called Clark Kent more times than I can count. All women see is the superhero. But I’m not interested in random women. I am waiting for my woman. Just haven’t found her yet.
When I leave campus, I hang a right, remembering a Vietnamese restaurant down the street. I’m new to town and want something familiar. My mom always took me to a similar place in our hometown of Seattle. Whenever she was having an off day with her writing, she'd convince me that the only thing that would fix it was pho. And even though my day is not going bad, I am feeling a bit homesick.
Thinking of my mother, I pull out my phone and call her as I walk down the sidewalk, an opened umbrella keeping the rain away.
“Hey Mom,” I say when she picks up.
“Trent?” She sighs. “Thanks for calling. I've been thinking about you. Are you all ready for classes tomorrow?”
“Yup,” I tell her. “I've been prepping for this long enough and now it's finally here.”
“I doubt you'll miss being a research assistant. Being a professor of literature is going to be challenging, but you'll do well.”
I chuckle. “Okay, Mom, thanks for the pep talk.”
She sighs again. “I don't have any worries about your actual profession. It's the other things I'm worried about.”
“And what's that, Mom?” I ask, already knowing what she's going to say.
“I worry about you being alone out there. A new city, a new apartment, a new job. It's a lot.”
“I'll be home this summer and I'll come visit over the holidays.” As her only child, I know how much she misses me. With my dad having passed away a year ago, I want to be sure I am there for her.
“I know that, but the holidays are a long time away,” she says. “And you say you'll be here for summer, but who knows what can happen between now and then?”
I smile, running a hand over my short beard. “Like what, Mom? You think I'm going to go off and get married and sweep my bride away on a honeymoon?”
My mom laughs softly. “Well, that wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. Trent, you are twenty-eight. It's about time you settled down.”
“Good to know where you stand on all this, Mom. But I was just calling to say I was thinking about you. I'm headed to get some pho, just like we used to do.”
“Oh, I remember.” I can practically hear her smile through the phone. Even if she is pushing marriage on me, I’m glad I called. “I’d be midway through writing a book and get totally stuck. The only thing that would get me out was a bowl of soup.” She laughs. “Are you feeling stuck, sweetie?”
“No, Mom, I'm not stuck. It's just raining, so I wanted something warm.”
“All right, well, thank you for calling,” she says.
“Love you, Mom,” I say before hanging up, then I slip my phone back in my pocket, my stomach growling. I get to the restaurant, thinking I'm lucky to have a mom who works so hard. She's been a writer my entire life, publishing a book every few years, and it's probably one of the reasons I'm so into literature. I spent my life in the library. Now though, I'm going to spend my life at a university.
I pull open the door, breathing in the rich aroma of the restaurant. I scan the room and see every table is taken. The booths are full. Even the counter. Everyone must have had the same idea as me, wanting soup as a way to get away from the cold.
A waitress comes up and asks if a sixty-minute wait is okay. I hesitate, knowing just how hungry I am. Before I can answer, a voice pipes up. A woman is sitting alone at a red vinyl booth. She has curly blonde hair and a bright smile, eyes so big she looks like a Disney princess. She's holding a menu in her hand, and waves it.
“You can sit here if you like,” she tells me.
The hostess shrugs. “If you want.”
I nod, stepping toward the booth and sliding into the empty side. “You sure?” I ask. “You don't even know me.”
She winks and gives me a smile. “I think I can share