“Frannie’s dress is a little short, don’t you think?” Jenny cocked her head. “That’s what this is about? Mid-thigh is the style.” Ken karate-chopped his upper thigh. “Nothing ‘mid’ about it.” “Oh, Ken,” Jenny said, pleasure brightening her eyes. She moved directly in front of him and patted his lapel, a condescending smile on her face. “You’d best prepare yourself. Boys will be checking out your daughters from here on out. And that will be the least of your concerns.” There was glee in his wife’s voice. Then she gave the knot of his tie a sharp tug, tightening it around his neck. “Men will
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