Multigenerational
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We're hot and red-faced and breathless and when we see Dexter we both start to laugh.
"You too, Dexter," Mean Megan says. "You have to dance too."
I say, "Dex too."
Maybe Dexter is too stunned to say no, because she starts making her pretty swan movements while I snap my fingers and stomp my feet and Megan grooves and swerves her head around and makes her hip-hop moves. Mom and Dad stand in the doorway of the den, watching us and saying nothing.
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The tea leaves formed brown clumps on the side of my cup.
Finally the fortune-teller spoke. "The leaves nearest the rim tell us about the future," she said. "They form the shape of a dagger."
