I Got Legal Advice From a Bowl of Soup

“Honey, come look at this!” I called, trying to sound like something important was happening.

She glanced over my shoulder and gave me a look that clearly said, “You’re wasting my time.”
“Ooo. Take a picture. Call the press,” she said with fake enthusiasm.

I frowned. “I’m serious. What are the odds?”

“Of what? A grown man eating alphabet soup for lunch?”

“First of all, it’s vegetable soup. Only sounds childish if you call it alphabet soup,” I defended myself.

She shrugged, uninterested. “I’m going to finish my sandwich.” And with that, she walked away.

I turned back to my lunch. Floating in the broth, perfectly aligned in capital letters, was the word: HEAR.

I stared at it. The universe, apparently, had a sense of humor.

I knew it was probably just a coincidence. Maybe someone else had soup spellings like ARE, EAR, HARE… or, if the cosmos really hated me, RAH. But I couldn’t ignore it. The writer in me refused. There was something about that word, floating there like a tiny, edible message.

And if it was a message, it came with irony. My hearing isn’t great. Years of working in industrial environments had left me with ears that needed subtitles. Friends, family, and my wife knew this, and most conversations with them involved them speaking louder or repeating themselves. Hearing anything subtle would be a challenge.

Still, I had a Zoom meeting in less than ten minutes. Online meetings are my least favorite part of life. You log in, wait, and somehow end up staring at your own blinking face while someone mumbles something important you can’t quite catch. But I was determined to try.

I finished my soup, dumping the bowl in the dishwasher—because I value my life—and mentally noted to pay attention. If the universe was trying to tell me something, I wasn’t going to let it slide.

Logging into Zoom, I confirmed the meeting was private and that only the publisher’s agent was attending. I’m never a fan of these video calls. Screens, faces, multiple windows—it’s a chaos that my brain doesn’t handle well.

Eventually, a notification popped up: Rudy has joined the chat.

Moments later, Rudy appeared on the screen. He didn’t notice me immediately, still focused on talking into his phone. I could only hear fragments of his conversation.

“Kinda high, I guess, yeah…”
“…sells well for us…”
“…sixth book…”
“No, I won’t tell him you’re listening.”

I raised an eyebrow. Clearly, he was talking about me.

“Hi, Rudy,” I said calmly.

He nearly dropped his phone. “Oh! Doc! Uh, sorry, just… talking to my wife.”

“Oh, hi! Nice to meet you, Mrs. Lopez!”

Panic flashed across his face.

“She had to go back to work, but I’ll say hi for you! By the way, Mr. Fielding asked me to discuss your retainer. It’s… a little higher than normal.”

I smiled. “Interesting. Speaking of wives… hold on one second.”

I raised my voice toward the dining room. “Hey, babe? Come in here for a sec!”

A few moments later, my wife appeared behind me. Hands resting casually on my shoulders, she smiled at the camera like she knew exactly what was about to happen.

“Rudy, and Mr. Fielding,” I said, turning slightly, “meet my wife. She’s also my attorney. She drafted every contract I sign, including the one you agreed to before my retainer was deposited. I thought you might want to meet the other half of my team.”

Her hand squeezed my shoulder lightly. That subtle gesture was all the confirmation I needed. She got the message.

“Now, what were you saying?” I asked, still smiling. “I’m all ears.”

Rudy stammered for a second, clearly overwhelmed. The meeting wrapped up very quickly after that.

I leaned back in my chair, letting out a quiet laugh. All from a bowl of alphabet soup. Who knew that one simple word could change the course of a lunch hour?

The rest of the day went smoothly. Dinner, a movie, and the usual end-of-day banter followed. But I kept thinking about the soup. HEAR. Sometimes, the universe has a funny way of delivering messages. Sometimes it’s a bowl of pasta. Sometimes it’s a simple glance from your spouse that says, “I’ve got your back.”

And sometimes, just sometimes, it’s both at the same time.

I love that woman. And I love that, for one small, perfect moment, alphabet soup became the most important meeting of the day.