December arrives shyly with a whisper of white. Specks of snow decorate the glass of Little Darling’s Bakery, dampening the heavy coats of Theodore’s regulars. He stifles a chuckle at their muttered complaints, already used to the infrequent burst of chilled air. A chime rings out with every customer, signaling their arrival, welcoming them into the warmth of scones and macaroons. The bell rings once. The door falls shut behind it. Theodore greets his eighth customer with a raised eyebrow, confusion settling on his round face. 

“Why… hello there,” he whispers while untying his stained black apron. It finds its home on the rack behind the counter, on the dull bronze of its previously silver hook. The hinge whines in protest. 

Theodore rounds the corner cautiously. A pale orange maine coon stares at him, its glare warning him what consequences await if he dares to inch closer. He retreats behind the counter, letting the gate doors shut methodically. The feline, agile and curious, and all too courageous, leaps up onto the marble surface. It meows once, twice, then sits patiently with its tail sophisticatedly tucked beneath it.

“There you go,” Theodore breathes, setting his mixing bowl beside the feline. His lips pull into a sort of half smile. He watches as it laps eagerly at the milk while looking out at his shop. The smile on his face falters at the sight of empty wooden chairs that used to creak from the weight of overworked college students. It completely falls from his face as the light flickers for the third time that week. But, then the cat meows again, its head bumping up against his left elbow. He inhales, stealing his resolve back, “Alright, guess you’re stuck with me, little guy…girl…?”

“I’m going to name you Buttons,” He smiles, half-heartedly listening as the bell chimes twice.