Accidental Time Traveler-InutaishoxOC

37. Rain Blessings

Monday arrived on the wings of a storm. It was pouring by the time the doors of Pappy's bar opened for his wake. Pappy's coffin had been set up in the back alongside the wall of framed photographs. Decorating the weathered tables were elegant arrangements of funeral flowers, set up by Pappy's friends.

Grams handled the entire situation with grace and dignity welcoming everyone warmly. After an hour, she took a break to check in with Layla. "Have you spoken with Mr. Tensaiga? He's a very old friend of Pappy's. I must say he hasn't aged a day."

Layla pulled a pint for an elderly lady, sliding it down the bar. Somehow, she had been put on bartender duty. "If you're talking about Sesshomaru. I already know him. He's Toga's son."

Grams looked appropriately stunned. "Mr. Tensaiga? Really?" She glanced at the slim Japanese man seated by himself at a table. "He looks nothing like your husband."

"He takes after his mother." Layla said sourly. In more ways than one, according to Toga.

Grams arched a brow at her bitter tone but didn't comment on it. "Come and mingle. O'Connell volunteered to man the bar."

A balding middle-aged man in a navy-blue suit lifted the partition. "Listen to your Grams, darling. You shouldn't be working at your own Pappy's funeral."

Layla was not inclined to mingle with a group of strangers who probably knew her Pappy better than she did. She dug around in the minifridge behind the bar for a soda. But Layla was here to support Grams, so she plastered on a friendly smile and for the next hour circulated the room.

There was laughter, tears, and music. One of the guests pulled out a fiddle and broke into a merry tune. An elderly man pulled Grams into an impromptu dance, startling a laugh from her. He whirled her around the floor, her long gauzy blue skirt spinning around her like wings.

Layla perched on a stool in front of the bar sipping ginger ale from a can. Her belly had been unsettled all morning. She spied Sesshomaru again across the room engaged in serious conversation with an old man in a suit. After their encounter in the café, she wanted nothing to do with him.

The old man said something and Sesshomaru actually smiled. He seemed to have grown more social over the years to everyone but her.

The sight of his easy smile made her sick. Unable to look at the demon lord anymore, Layla slid down from the stool and slipped out of the bright cheerful room.

Kicking off her shoes she perched on the front stoop, the cold cement of the sidewalk felt good against her bare soles. What did it matter that her stepson didn't accept her? His approval wasn't necessary to her life.

So why did it bother her all of a sudden?

Layla nursed her ginger ale and massaged her temples. She must be coming down with the flu or something. Lately, she suffered from unusual bouts of fatigue.

Rain fell in thick sheets, obscuring the buildings across the street. The green and white striped awning protected Layla from being drenched by the downpour. Her knee-length black lace skirt provided little warmth. It was cold but she didn't care. The sound of the driving rain splattering the ground with icy needles matched her current mood perfectly.

A lone figure braved the storm huddled beneath an umbrella. They were too far away to make out any distinguishing features.

Cheerful music spilled out from a gap in the door behind her. Layla drew her knees up to her chest. Sesshomaru was her only remaining connection to the Feudal Era. Perhaps, that's why his obvious disdain troubled her. They shared a common bond in the people who had touched their lives.