The following day, precisely at 12:30 p.m., a young man, likely in his late 20s and adorned in an impeccably expensive olive-green suit, entered Saffron Street. Ashley approached him with a polite greeting, asking if he would be dining alone or expecting company. The man declined to eat, explaining that he was there to collect lunch for his busy boss, who had dined at the establishment the day before. Ashley nodded, guiding him to a table and handing over a menu.
"Feel free to peruse the menu, sir, and let me know what you'd like to be packed for your boss. While you wait, would you like a beverage or a bite for yourself?" she inquired. The man declined, stating he would order his lunch alongside his boss's. Just as Ashley was about to leave, he called her back. With confusion evident, he said, "Miss," pausing as he didn't know her name. Ashley provided, "Ashley, sir. My name is Ashley. What can I do for you?" The young man continued, "Ah, yes, Miss Ashley. I was told by my boss that he needed something called Masoor Dal," he said, unfamiliar with the dish.
Ashley's expression shifted from confusion to recognition. "Does your boss happen to be Mr. Maximillian?" she asked, leaving the young man to narrow his eyes and question, "How do you know that name?"
Ashley shrugged and said, "That is his name. He actually became very good friends with our chef's daughter, and that is the name he told her. He even gave our chef his phone number with this name. Is his name not Maximillian?" Ashley asked suspiciously. The young man shook his head, saying, "Yes, it is," and looked around, trying to come up with an excuse. He continued, "He does not like his name, so we really call him with this name. We majorly use his middle name or his last name to call him."
"That makes sense," Ashley acknowledged. "Alright, so I'll get our chef to prepare Masoor Dal for your boss. What else would he like with it, bread or rice?" The young man huffed, realizing the difficulty, and turned to the waitress, saying, "Miss Ashley, my clear instructions were, go to Saffron Street and tell them that I want Masoor dal or exactly what Meher is having for lunch."
"What?" Ashley exclaimed a little louder, gaining the attention of other patrons. The young man was clearly flustered as he said, "I don't know, miss. These were the exact instructions I was given, so I was told to get the Masoor Dal thing or whatever someone called Meher is having for lunch. So who is this Meher, and please ask her what she is having."
Ashley just laughed out as she said, "Meher is a two and a half year old child; she is the chef's daughter that I was telling you about, that your boss apparently befriended." The young man nodded and then widened his eyes as he said, "Come again," as Ashley reiterated what she had just said. The young man just laughed in disbelief as he said, "You are saying that my boss, Mr. Ro...," he stopped himself and said, "Mr. Maximilian befriended a two-year-old and wants to have what she is having for lunch?" "Yes, apparently," Ashley confirmed.
Taking a deep breathe he composed himself and then said, "Could you please get this done? While I digest this, could you get me something to eat? Because I suddenly find myself feeling as if my blood pressure is dipping low." Ashley giggled at his dramatics and responded, "What would you like to have?"
The young man shook his head, saying, "Surprise me, okay." Ashley agreed, "Okay, but sweet, savory, anything? You would have to give me a certain direction." The young man sighed, "You know what, just get me something savory and vegetarian. I am vegetarian." Ashley noted, "Alright, I will get you something to eat. Meanwhile, let me get your boss's lunch packed - Masoor Dal plus whatever Meher is having." Ashley gave him a thumbs up as she moved into the kitchen, equally baffled.
Once inside the kitchen, Ashley conveyed the absurd directions to Seher, who was energetically beating the dahi bhalla batter. Seher's reaction matched, if not exceeded, Ashley's initial shock. After a minute or two of regaining composure, Seher nodded to herself and said, "Koi na, koi na Seher, it's okay, ki farak penda hai, unanu ghar da khaana chaida hai, appa ghar da khaana de dange, koi tension nahi, relax, relax." (Don't worry, Seher, it's okay. What does it matter? He wants home-cooked food; we provide home-cooked food. No tension, relax, relax.)
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Blessing in Disguise
RomanceIn the heart of Chicago, Seher Sandhu, a young mother haunted by her past, embarks on a journey of rediscovery. As bonds form, promises are made, and hope blossoms, yet circumstances force Seher to confront crossroads once more. She battles insecuri...