Little Monsters

by Adrienne Brodeur

“Don’t you guys think they’re a little young for you?” she asked, keeping her voice light. Ken gave a tight laugh. “As far as I know, there’s no law against looking.” “Still,” Abby continued, gaining courage, “it’s a little gross.” “What’s a little gross?” Jenny asked, appearing out of nowhere with a tray of crab quesadillas and cocktail napkins. Abby could have kissed Jenny for her perfect timing. “Oh, you know, leering at teenage girls,” Abby said, emboldened by her friend’s presence. But instead of agreeing, Jenny shot her an icy look. To the men, she smiled and said, “You boys are positively infantile.” Ken gave his wife’s bottom a cheeky squeeze and Jenny sauntered back up the hill, swaying her hips. “Your wife’s awesome,” one of them said. “That she is,” Ken said. He gave Abby a withering look. To his friends, he said, “I don’t want you guys to miss the food and drinks. Why don’t you head up to the house and I’ll catch up with you in a bit.” As Matt and Henry headed toward the deck, Ken grabbed Abby’s elbow. “What in God’s name do you think you’re doing?” he hissed. “What the hell, Ken? Let go.” Her brother’s hands were large and powerful enough to easily palm a basketball or the top of her head. “You’re hurting me.”