Intruding

My body felt like it was working on autopilot as I followed James into his aunt Joan’s home.

Her face was set in a permanent scowl; her arms crossed tight over her chest. James held his head up high as he walked through the front door. I followed closely, feeling as if I was intruding on family matters.

The man named Dante sat at a small table for four, chewing his nails. The moment his eyes met James’, I could see the apologies he wished he could speak out loud.

“Your mother raised you better than this, James,” Joan shook her head as she flopped into one of the creaky wooden chairs.

James ran his fingers through his hair before sitting in the seat across from Dante. I hesitated a beat before Joan’s eyes found mine, “You are part of this family. That seat right there is yours.” She’d softened her voice when she spoke to me, patting the table in front of the only empty seat.

“I’m sorry, James,” Dante muttered quietly, but Joan interrupted, “You should be sorry. The both of you shou