The main drag was jam-packed, filled with islanders eager to brave the cold to support Huron Helpers, and it warmed Harlow’s heart to see the crowds.
Although having grown up on the island, she never realized how close-knit the islanders were, how they took care of each other, making extra efforts to help the senior residents. It was like no other place Harlow had lived, and it made her proud to be a part of the community.
Abby, Meg, Peyton, and Lottie arrived carrying to-go containers of hot cocoa.
“We brought drinks.” Peyton handed a cup to Harlow.
“Thank you.” She sipped the creamy chocolate goodness, the heat spreading from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. “I can’t believe what a great view we have.”
“Every year.” Meg gave her a thumbs up. “Leif roped off our viewing area first thing this morning and has been guarding it with his life.”
Leif, Noelle’s husband, hung back near the edge of the building.
Harlow gave him a friendly wave. “Thanks for the primo spot.”
“You’re welcome. Noelle has standing marching orders every year.”
The friends chattered about the parade, about the winter storm that barreled through on Christmas Eve, halting “Santa’s deliveries.”
Because of the storm, the mayor issued an official proclamation delaying Christmas for a few days. Hence, New Year’s Eve would do double duty as the islanders’ belated Christmas Eve, which had already passed.
As soon as the parade and festivities wrapped up, the Mackinac Islanders would celebrate the holiday. Although inconvenient, it was part of the charm of living on an island that was at the mercy of the weather, especially during the winter months.
To Harlow, the most important thing was that her friends and family were safe.
“Are we still on for the Mackies’ cookie exchange and party later today?” Abby asked.
“On and I can hardly wait to host my first official party,” Harlow said. Thankfully, her special purchases had finallyarrived, including the gifts she had chosen for each of her family members and Eryn.
Meg nudged her arm. “Do you need us to bring anything?”
“Only you, your scrumptious cookies and gifts for giving,” Harlow said. “I prepped the food last night before I went to bed.”
“We could’ve had a potluck.” Peyton said.
“This is my treat, part of my Christmas gift to you. I wanted to give you all a break, including Island Time Catering.” Harlow playfully wagged her finger at Abby, the owner of a new catering company.
“I have to admit I’ve been super busy, but in a good way. Having a day off will be wonderful.”
“The parade is starting.” Lottie excitedly motioned to the far end of the block, near the corner of Fort Street and in front of Marquette Park.
A rousing rendition of “Santa Claus on Main Street,” the official island holiday tune, created by a local musician and recorded in a mainland recording studio, played loudly over the speakers.
Santa, donning his traditional red suit, black boots and red velvet hat with a fluffy white ball on the end, strolled down the center of the street, waving to the crowd. A team of elves wearing vibrant shades of North Pole evergreen spun in circles. Pointed black elf shoes tapped in perfect rhythm while they tossed candy to the children.
Harlow clapped her hands, singing along to the catchy tune she’d learned in grade school. And it was like being transported back to her childhood, when the island hosted a downtown festival, not unlike today’s but without the parade.
Following behind Santa were the drays, the horses and wagons all decked out in their holiday finery, cleverly constructed costumes and themed floats.
Frosty and miniature snowmen waved to the crowd, tossing out snowman-shaped chocolate bars. Even the horses pulling the wagon were dressed in top hats and bowties.
Christmas trees, snowy scenes, story time by a “faux fire”—one right after another, the parade continued, each float creative and a serious contender to snag the top prize.
Finally, Harlow glimpsed Chance and Marty steering the wagon with Mort and Aunt Birdie seated on the front bench seat.
“What in the world?” Lottie burst out laughing.
Harlow craned her neck. “What is it?”
