The Wedding Tamasha | PUBLISHED

Chapter 3

Max was late again the next morning, and Shweta wondered what had gone wrong this time.

The rush for filling up the salsa jars was already on when he walked through the door, the jingle heralding his dishevelled self with ruffled hair.

And sunglasses still on as he walked into the café.

'Max?' Julie called out to him.

He ignored her, walking right past to his station and starting on the preparations for the tortillas.

'Maximo Morales,' Julie called out, sternly this time. 'Why are you late again?'

Shweta wondered about Max's drooping shoulders and downcast face. Something was up, what with those shades hiding his dark, beautiful eyes and long lashes. Her ex-roommate looked pitiful this morning.

When Max didn't answer for the second time, Julie let Max's ignoring her pass and continued filling the jars. Even Shweta felt that it was quite unlike Max to be silent. Something was definitely wrong!

Max headed to the console for the radio and turned it on. 'Why so quiet? Why no music?'

Julie rolled her eyes and shook her head.

Soft jazz from the radio floated through the kitchen and Shweta was engrossed in the tune when suddenly the phone in her pocket started chiming.

She frowned, losing her focus for a moment just as Julie handed her a full jar. It slipped right out of her hand, and thud, it shattered into a hundred pieces while the salsa sprayed on her jeans and the floor.

Shocked, Shweta's hands flew to her mouth. 'I'm so so sorry!' she cried, staring at the sight of the thick, dark salsa oozing on the floor. She was terrified to meet Julie's eyes.

'You need help?' Max rushed to help her, using a wet cloth to clean her jeans. He started cleaning the floor when Julie stopped him.

'No, we're fine,' she said, urging Shweta to keep going with the leftover jars. She always had spare jars and more salsa than she needed to pack, so they quickly made up for the one that was wasted.

Shweta heaved a sigh of relief when the packing was over. She had to be more careful next time, she thought, as she wiped the mess off the floor. She could get kicked out of her job for this and, at this juncture in her life, it would be worse than a catastrophe.

And now, on to the unexpected caller, Shweta thought, as she remembered the reason for the mishap. Nobody ever called her at this hour.

'I'll be back in two minutes,' she called out to Julie who was heading towards the front with the trolley of crates.

She opened the exit door at the back that led to the dumpster. A cold draught of air felt shockingly refreshing as it hit her face.

Shweta fished out the phone from her pocket and checked for the missed call.

Ma?

Panic struck. Could it be that her father had had a heart attack again? With trembling hands, she called back. Her mother's phone beeped with a busy tone.

Shweta disconnected and fidgeted by the dumpster, all sorts of terrible thoughts running through her head. The stench from the dumpster quickly overpowered her and she moved further down until she could inhale the aroma of spicy Indian chicken curry from the Kebab Corner. Much better! Her stomach rumbled although lunch was still an hour away. She sighed at the thought of the usual burrito for lunch and glanced at her phone again.

Nothing.

Suddenly, her phone chimed again. Startled, she almost dropped it before picking up the call. 'Ma?'