Mourning Showers

Fat drops hit the ground as thunder boomed in the distance. Joanna loved this time of year because colors seemed to be enriched by the moist air. The smell of rain usually made her want to lie on the sofa with the windows open as she enjoyed a cup of coffee and a good book. But today was anything but enjoyable. She had collapsed into the over-sized lawn chair on the porch an hour ago and had not mustered the energy to remove herself from it. All she could do was stare off into the yard and take note of how many cars passed down the street.

It was a relief to have escaped the onslaught of the mob of mourners at the cemetery this morning. Something that had always perplexed Joanna was why people acted sad or sympathetic toward a person who'd just lost a loved one; she believed if they were not truly upset by the loss, they should not pretend to be so, regardless of it being rude. If Joanna had the drive this morning, she would have called them all out on their facades. Instead, she had opted to ignore everyone and leave once the service was over. It was disgusting how people were so entertained by death, particularly the deaths of people they know. There was no point in sticking around to listen to them boast about who had been most shocked from the loss of Joanna's parents.

A warm hand slid over Joanna's and wrapped itself around her own. She could feel a light jolt surge through her arm. The only hand that was ever able to do this was the hand of Delilah. She pulled her stare away from the beetle struggling to flip itself back onto its legs and locked on Delilah's Viridian green eyes. The feat of denying Delilah her desires was impossible, and right now, she was pulling her in close to her lips for a kiss she clearly demanded. Fire erupted in Joanna's chest. She breathed her scent in deep and crooked her head to the side as she ran her lips along the side of her jaw. Delilah exhaled into her ear as she curled her fingers into her hair.

A silhouette shot across the porch, out of the corner of Joanna's eye. She lurched back into the chair. The source of the silhouette was unclear to Joanna as she assessed the porch again. Delilah reached for Joanna again when she pulled away from her.

"I'm sorry. I just... I can't do this here."

"It's okay. I'm sorry," Delilah rested her hand on Joanna's once more and they sat there for a long while.

Delilah pulled out a box of Marlboros out of her purse and offered a cigarette to Joanna.

"You remember when I told them about us?"

"Yeah, they weren't too happy about it," Delilah exhaled out a cloud of smoke.

"They were flat out livid."

Joanna thumbed the keys in her hand as she recalled the night she told her parents about her relationship with Delilah. Her father had ripped through the room like a tornado, taking her and Delilah out of the house by their scalps. Just before he'd slammed the door shut, she'd caught a glimpse of her mother in the hallway. Her mother's face was crumpled in disgust as her eyes fell on Delilah. "May God save you both," she uttered as she turned away from them.

"It could have been worse, though. It could have been you in that car... I don't think I would have been able to handle that," Joanna gripped Delilah's hand.

"You wouldn't have gotten free crap though."

"You're right," she said. She chuckled at the thought.

"Guess they forgave you. They really did love you, in the end," Delilah mused.

"Yeah, I guess they did."

When Joanna first learned of her parents' deaths, she'd been notified by a lawyer to discuss the will they'd established, leaving everything to her. She'd dropped the phone when he'd informed her of the seven figures they had in investments and property value. It hadn't really settled in until she was sitting on that porch with the keys in her grasp. The silence throughout the property made it clear that her parents were no longer there. Usually at this time of day, she could hear them bickering over the television about what to eat. Now all she could hear was fat drops hit the ground as thunder boomed in the distance.