Two bags of mini donuts along with large cups of cocoa purchased and partially consumed, we stroll toward the bar. We pause near the small park because carolers in hideous holiday sweaters block the door.

“Any sign of the Olafs?” Diane asks, biting into a cinnamon sugar covered donut.

“Maybe they’re already inside?” Hailey’s mouth is full and her words come out in a jumble.

The chorus is mid fa-la when they abruptly stop singing.

“Uh oh,” Hailey whispers between bites.

Carolers scatter as a mass of white tumbles out the Dog’s front door.

“Enough! You’re all banned for the rest of the year,” Olaf shouts, not amused.

“That’s only seventeen days,” Erik says, sounding disappointed.

“Shut up. You want longer?” Carter grumbles and shoves his brother into the street.

“I swear they want to get banned for life. Last year was the Rudolf onesie and then the grumpy old man costume for Halloween.” I’m both impressed and scared for them. Even I know when to draw the line.

Once Olaf’s stormed back inside, we approach the Kelsos. Carter’s rolled down the top of his onesie and tied the arms around his waist. He’s got to be cold in only a white T-shirt.

“You still look like a snowman,” John tells him. “Only now you’re half melted.”

He makes a good point. “You shouldn’t antagonize Olaf. He has a heart condition. You want him to blow an artery over your antics?”

I’m about to start yelling about staying off of Olaf’s lawn. John rests his hand on my shoulder. “I think you made your point. I don’t think anyone is trying to murder Olaf with laughter.”

“No one wants him dead,” Erik says, serious for the moment. “Dan’s taken over managing the business for him so Olaf can focus on being cranky.”

“Where is Dan?” Hailey asks, and I don’t like the eagerness in her voice when she says his name. I’m well aware all the women on the island have a crush on him.

“He’s in Seattle with Roslyn,” Erik replies. “Some fancy party. He was grumbling about wearing his tux.”

“Batman,” Carter and I say at the same time.

“Where’s Ashley?” Cari spins around. “Why didn’t she get kicked out with the rest of us?”

“I think she’s in the bathroom,” Carter answers, his brows drawn together with worry. “She’s been in there a while.”

Cari and Diane meet eyes. “Uh oh. We’ll go check on her.”

Hailey joins them, leaving the guys standing on the sidewalk surrounded by confused carolers, the sippers, and the strollers.

A woman with two pint-size mini humans approaches and asks if her daughters can get their picture taken with Carter and Erik.

Even ridiculous, the two of them are magnets for selfies.

Erik agrees, but asks the pics don’t end up online or social media. The mom looks confused, but agrees. She must not be from around here.

After they get their pictures, the group wanders away singing about building snowmen.

“You two should take it on the road,” I suggest.

“We could dress up the goats. People love goats in pajamas and costumes.” Carter takes me seriously. The man is obsessed with goats.

“We could have onesie day at the coffee house. I bet Jonah would be into it,” Erik muses out loud.

“Where is the dark one?” I ask.

“He said he had an event over in town tonight. I don’t think holiday festivities are his thing,” Erik explains.

“Anyone know what his thing is?” John asks. “Just curious. He’s always kept to himself.”

“He likes live music. Obsessed with good coffee. And tattoos. And his old VW Bus.” Carter lists random things like he’s reading off Jonah’s dating profile.

That’s it. Four things we know about Jonah.

“He also doesn’t mind standing around in a coffee hut all day.” Erik doesn’t add much to the knowledge pool.

“He’s always been quiet,” John comments, which coming from a guy who doesn’t talk a lot himself is saying something.

A sharp blast of icy wind shakes the boughs around the windows and jostles the decorative bells.

“Why are we standing around outside? We’re not banned.” I jerk my thumb toward the door. “I’m going inside for a beer.”

John agrees and we head inside.

There’s no sign of our wives, Ashley, or Cari near the front of the bar. We order beers and find a spot near the wall to stand.

“How long until we send a search party into the women’s room?” John asks, then swallows a third of his pint.

“They’re fine.” I sip my own beer and watch Olaf yell at more customers who start singing “Do You Want to Build a Snowman?” near the door.

“No blocking the exit,” Olaf shouts from his spot behind the bar. In that position, I can imagine him hiding behind a wall of snow, lobbing snowballs at his enemies. Maybe next year I’ll bring him a supply of real snow to toss at anyone who pisses him off. Knowing him, he’d probably complain about the snow melting on the wood floor.

“Hey.” Hailey slides next to me.

“Hey yourself. Everything okay with Ashley?” I sling my arm over her shoulders.

Diane makes a small gagging noise. “She barfed again.”

“We’ve all been there,” I confess, vaguely recalling a night right after I turned twenty-one. “I upchucked off the back deck.”

Ashley appears at her side in leggings and a long sleeve T-shirt wearing Diane’s sweater, her onesie balled up in her arms. “Ugh. This might be worse than when I threw up on the ferry.”

“I’ve never prayed at the porcelain throne here,” John brags.

“Me neither.” Diane grins up at him. “Then again, I didn’t grow up here.”

“We’ll make you a plaque,” I tell them. “Are you okay, Ashley?”

“I feel better, but think I’ll call it a night. Where’s my dear husband?” She scans the crowd.

I point to the front door. “Out in the cold with the rest of the exiled snow people.”

Cari joins our group. “Oh no. For how long?”

“Only two weeks.” John laughs.

“Erik will be disappointed, yet relieved it’s not for longer,” Cari says, with a disapproving shake of her dark hair. “He’s a magnet for trouble.”

“Olaf must be feeling generous with the holiday spirit.” Ashley gives us a weak smile. “And on that note, I’m going to go home. If I don’t see you before, Merry Christmas.”

“Hopefully we’ll have this baby before then,” Diane says as they hug. “You’re on the phone tree list, right?”

Ashley nods. “Roslyn’s too.”

Hailey fidgets next to me. We’re way past her having any reason to be jealous over Ashley. Our mutual history is ancient. But the two women are never going to be best friends. Still, Hailey rubs Ashley’s shoulder and gives her a friendly smile. “Hope you feel better.”

“You too. Get off your feet and drink some water.” Ashley squeezes Hailey’s hand. “And with that, this girl is going home.”

She and Cari weave their way through the crowd around the pool table.

My eyes go to Hailey. “Are you okay?”

“My back’s bothering me and I’m feeling a little crampy.”

“Are we sure Ashley’s not contagious?”

“I hope not.” Hailey’s hands drop down to support her belly. “There’s been enough vomiting tonight.”

“And enough talk about it, too.” John finishes his beer before setting it on the ledge behind us. “We need to collect Alene from my aunt. They’re at the gingerbread house display down the street.”

Diane’s eyes widen. “I completely forgot about our daughter. I’m a horrible mom.”

“Blame the Kelso brothers and their shenanigans,” Hailey offers. “That’s what Tom does.”

I nod. “Always makes me feel better.”

John pulls his phone from his jacket pocket. With a couple of taps, he opens up a picture of Alene happily smiling, face streaked with red, green, and white icing. “She’s fine.”

“We should go give your aunt a break.” Diane wraps her blanket scarf around herself.

“You’re going to freeze out there.” John pulls off his jacket and cocoons her inside it. Even pregnant and about to deliver a baby, the coat swallows her up. Because John’s a giant.

Beside me, Hailey sighs.

“I can give you my jacket if you want,” I whisper to her. “Anything for you.”

She sighs again. Or exhales with force. I can’t tell the difference.

“Hailey?” I step away from her to get a better look at her.

Carolers open the front door and begin entering the bar as they sing and play their tambourines.

“Christmas, Christmas,” the women in their festive holiday sweaters sing. The carolers in the front jam themselves between the exterior door and the swinging bar doors like cows in a chute.

“No!” Olaf shouts.

The soloist drowns out his voice as she sings the first words, “The snow’s—”

“Leave! You’re trespassing!” Olaf waves his white bar towel in a circle around his head. “Out!”

Only they can’t exit because they’re shoved together in the narrow space, blocked by the ones behind them, all belting out the joy of the season at the top of their voices.

“I just peed myself,” Hailey shout-whispers in my ear over the carolers’ singing.