Chartreuse Frosting

A baker’s day always starts early in the morning before dawn breaks. This is especially true for Hazel Harris, who often wakes up at 2:00 a.m. Even now, after years of following this schedule, her body aches and fights with her when the alarm on the side of her bed sounds. She has since broken the snooze button and has never thought to fix it.

On this April morning, her schedule was no different. She woke up in the early hour, put herself together for her day, and made a cup of coffee with lots of cream and lots of sugar, but didn’t eat because even though this is her normal schedule, she still gets queasy when she eats so early in the morning. Though she did all her daily rituals, she found herself taking longer with minor complications slowing her down, like a sweater with a loose thread that keeps snagging on everything. All these small things meant she left 7 minutes later than normal.

Hazel finally left, and though she didn’t like to speed, she drove just a bit faster and with more haste, thinking it would be okay since no one was ever out at that hour. She never listens to music in the car but rather takes the time to think about her day and about what she thought of the day before. This morning though, she couldn’t think, all her memories and thoughts seemed to drown in her panic of being late. So, she turned on the radio. A catchy tune played, about coffee and self-confidence.

She finally arrived at the bakery, only a minute late. At the door, she saw a curious grey cat with long fur and green eyes. It looked like it was waiting for someone to open the door. When the cat seemed to hear Hazel’s keys it looked back at her and seemed to think Ah, there you are.

Hazel didn’t take too much time to ponder about the strange cat and instead hurried to the door unlocking all three locks. When she opened the door, the cat let itself in as if this was a routine of theirs. Hazel gently tried to shoo the cat out, but the animal was indignant, gracefully avoiding all her attempts to get close.

“I can’t bake with you here,” Hazel said a bit exasperated. The cat sat and gave her a deadpan look.

Hazel was now starting far later than she’d like and a glace to the clock told her she must be getting on with it. So, despite how unhygienic she thought it would be she said, “Alright, you can stay, but stay here by the tables while I bake in the back,”

As always, she locked all three locks on the door and made her way to the back to begin baking her regiment for the day. As all the days before, she lost herself in her work, measuring and mixing, following her set schedule. The cakes always had to go in precisely three hours before the bakery opened, the only exception was if there was a special order, in which the cake must go in four hours before opening so she had time for any special piping and decorating.

That day, she did have a special order. It was a one-tier, white cake with whipped cream frosting and strawberries in between each layer. The customer wanted the cake to be in the shape of a heart. Hazel always had trouble with baking cakes in the shapes of hearts; for whatever reason they never baked perfectly the first time.

As she was preparing tins for cupcakes, a knock sounded at the swinging door leading to the kitchen where she baked. Hazel’s hand on the spatula froze, her eyes widening as she searched her mind for memories of her locking the three locks on the door. She insisted in her mind that she had locked the door.

“Hello?” she asked to the door. Instead of responding, a man walked through the door wearing a toothy grin, with his arm thrust out in a manner that said Ta Da! Hazel screamed and threw the spatula she was holding at him. He easily dodged it and seemed to slide towards her.

He was a strange man. He wore a grey, wool waistcoat over a pristine white button-up shirt, though the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and the buttons weren’t buttoned up to his neck leaving the collar loose. He had on matching grey trousers and black oxfords. The most peculiar thing about him though was his hair and eyes. His hair was so grey it was more silver than anything, and yet his features didn’t betray a hint of old age. His eyes were so green they seemed to glow.

“Who are you?!” Hazel shouted. The man dropped his arm, and his shoulders visibly sagged as he fixed her with a look.

“I’m Felix,” he said with a sigh as if this was obvious and redundant information.

“What are you doing here?! Get out!” she began coming around the island to shoo him out. He again seemed to slink just past her reach.

“Oh, not this again,” he said rolling his eyes, “You said I can stay,”

Hazel’s eyes got wide with recognition. She was losing her mind she thought.

“Are you telling me you were the cat,” she rubbed her temples trying to get a grip.

“Yes, dear, I got dreadfully board locked away with the tables though,” he said sitting at one of the stools kept underneath one of the counters.

“Right,” she stated flatly, “So, how are you now a person?” The man, the cat, rolled his eyes so exaggeratedly she thought he might fall off the stool.

“I’m a familiar, dear,” again his tone made it seem as if this should be obvious. As if cats turning into people was a daily occurrence for everybody.

“A familiar? Like for witches?” Hazel had vaguely remembered a show she used to watch as a kid with three witches with a cat who talked, but the details were more than a little fuzzy.

“That’s a stereotype,” he said with genuine offense, “Familiars are beings of their own, they do not need a witch.”

“So, you’re a familiar without a witch?”

“Well, no not really,” he said his tone light again, “A familiar doesn’t need a witch, but it is nice to have. So, I came here to find my witch,”

“You came to a bakery to find a witch?” she asked more to the universe than to the cat, man, that was in front of her. She must be dreaming. Her alarm with the broken snooze button would sound any minute.

“Yes, well, I came to your bakery, to find you,” he corrected.

“Wait—” she held her hands out closing her eyes, “You came to find me?”

“That’s right,” he stated.

“But I’m not a witch,” she gave him an almost panicked look. Felix just laughed, as if she really did just make a funny joke.

“Of course you are,” he said again as if this information were obvious, “From the looks of your cakes you seem to be a very good one, too.”

“I’m a baker, not a witch. My cakes look good because I’m good at my job, not because of magic,” for a moment, Hazel was offended by his remark. She has worked very hard in her profession, putting in painstaking hours to perfect her craft. Magic had nothing to do with it.

“Sure, but have you noticed what happens when a customer eats your cake?” he asked, finally coming to terms with her ignorance of her abilities.

“I don’t watch my customers eat their cakes, ever,” Hazel seldom even met her customers, often another part-timer would give the customer their cake long after Hazel had gone home for the day.

Felix smiled at her, a knowing smile, but also a soft one. He shook his head slightly and said, “Your cakes have given people hope, they have cured illnesses, they have created new realities,” he said with such awe in his voice that Hazel almost believed him.

“That can’t be true,” Hazel smiled as if this was all some big joke. Felix stared at her, now completely serious. As Hazel looked into his green eyes, a lump in her throat started to form. With a rush of realization, she believed him, and she began to cry. At first, she didn’t even notice the tears, until Felix got up slowly and wiped them from either cheek. His smile returned.

“So, will you be my witch?” he asked, and Hazel noticed a slight waver in his voice as if he was nervous about her answer.

“What will it entail?” his Cheshire grin should’ve been answer enough to her question.

“All manner of things. For one, having a familiar can make your magic stronger so the effects could be even greater or last even longer. My own magic would also be stronger, and I’d be able to stay in this form for longer,” he shrugged as if this was of no importance, “Plus, you would have the pleasure of my companionship,” Something inside Hazel seemed to glow with warmth.

Hazel thought about her morning routine, and how she woke up when the world was still asleep. Even on her drive to work, she rarely saw a soul, and then she worked for hours with nothing but her appliances to keep her company. She finally realized, just how lonely her world how become. The world that used to seem to buzz with light and energy had grown duller. She loved her work, and now she felt even more purpose behind it if it meant so many wonderful things for her customers. However, she couldn’t help but feel that maybe her work was also getting in the way of her connection to the world around her.

Hazel began to imagine her life with Felix, inserting him into all the mundane parts of her life. Even if he was a cat sleeping on her sofa as she left in the morning, she could know that another soul was living in her presence. Although she probably should think more about such a life-altering thing she asked, “How do you become my familiar?"

“It’s quite simple really,” he said through a genuine smile, “All you have to do is say ‘I, Hazel Harris, take Felix Fritz of the Canterbury line to be my devoted familiar,’ while holding my hand.

“Sounds more like a marriage vow,” Hazel joked, but Felix tilted his head thinking.

“Yes, I suppose having a familiar is very similar to having a spouse,” he said in a faraway voice as if it wasn’t entirely directed at Hazel.

“Ready?” Felix asked snapping back to the moment and reaching to grab Hazel’s hand.  Hazel gripped her hand in his and took a deep breath.

“I, Hazel Harris, take Felix Fritz of the Canterbury line to be my devoted familiar,” as she spoke, Felix was mouthing the words to help her remember the simple phrase. When she finished, both seemed to be washed in a glow of chartreuse light similar to the glow of Felix’s eyes. Her heart seemed to swell with light and love, but other than that, nothing seemed too different.

“Did it work?” she said. Felix looked at his hands and patted down his body. He began to laugh and then scooped Hazel into a hug. She couldn’t help but laugh too.

“I think this causes for celebration,” Felix said with a disbelieving smile.

“I’ll make a cake!” Hazel said laughing once more.

By some miracle, maybe because of Felix, her heart cake came out perfectly on the first try. So, Hazel used the leftovers to make a cake for her and Felix to celebrate with. As she whipped up a buttercream frosting to use for their cake, she decided to throw in some matcha tea powder, and a little bit of food coloring to make a gorgeous chartreuse frosting to match Felix’s eyes and the glow that seemed to follow her for the rest of the day.

Felix had gone to Hazel’s apartment soon after she began to work again, so when Hazel opened her door, as she had done all the days before, instead of a cold apartment she was met with the lights already on and the smell of garlic and onion cooking. A well of tears began to spring from her eyes, and she once again realized just how lonely she had been.

“Hazel?” Felix asked popping around from the kitchen to see her,

“Hi, yeah I’m here!” she said swallowing her tears away, “What are you cooking?”

“Pasta,” he said, and Hazel noticed the apron he was wearing, “I hope it's okay I started using the kitchen,”

“I brought us our cake!” she said setting down her bag and cake at the small dining table next to the kitchen.

“Let me see!” he came over and Hazel unboxed the cake to a chartreuse-colored heart cake with vintage piping and lettering that read “Just Bonded!” in cursive lettering.

Later that night they ate pasta and garlic bread and talked about the lives they led before. Felix had tales of traveling all over the world, about his last warlock, and about the adventures he had. Hazel felt a bit sad, though, like her life was dull in comparison, but Felix listened with rapt attention, soaking every word she said as if her story was just as fantastical as his.

When they finally ate the cake, they both decided it was the best they’d ever had. For the first time she felt the magic Felix told her about, she felt hope blossoming for a better tomorrow, for a life filled with magic, joy, and love.