1 Bubba and the Dead Woman by C.L. Bevill

Author:C.L. Bevill [Bevill, C.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2010-11-25T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Bubba and the Errant Bullet

Thursday through Friday

Bubba Snoddy carefully scrutinized Major Michael Dearman. Dearman was officially a drunken mess. The jacket of his uniform was unbuttoned. His tie was half on, wrapped once around his neck but not tied in a knot. The pins on his medals had broken, leaving the grouping hanging crookedly down his breast. His dress shirt was stained with some unknown substance. And only the god who watched over drunks knew where his saucer cap was presently located. Clearly, he had been at the Dew Drop Inn for a long time consuming drink after drink, until he could barely stand up or even focus. How much of a liar could Dearman be? How much of a liar could a man who was so drunk be?

Bubba believed Dearman when he said Melissa had been coming to apologize for what she had done to her former fiancée. Despite her shortcomings she had had her own sense of honor, her own sense of right and wrong. When Bubba had been angry with her, and that had been for a long time after the incident, he hadn’t been rational enough to see that. It was true that she had wanted more from life, but he had never consciously thought that Melissa was simply a golddigger. He knew that she had to have had genuine affection, if not love, for the man she chose to marry. Even if Bubba had walked in on the two of them together, it hadn’t been her plan that he find out that way. She would have told him privately, in a manner that wouldn’t have been welcome but neither would it have been cruel. She had loved Bubba in her own way, as well and had never wanted to hurt him like she had. So it had eaten away at her until she had felt compelled to tell him that she was genuinely sorry for what she had been responsible, the breakup of their union, as well as Bubba’s precipitous exit from the military.

Bubba had loved Melissa once. He had thought he couldn’t feel compassion for her, even dead. But he was wrong. Furthermore, he felt compassion for the man who had also loved her.

Dearman was still sobbing on the other side of the table. His hands covered his face as though the simple action could take away all of the pain from his sight. It would be a long time before that would happen.

Bubba sighed. He silently noted that he was doing a lot of sighing these days. “Come on, Sir. I’ll get you back to the Inn.” Please, God, don’t let him throw up in my truck or on my dog.

Dearman peeked through his hands. “What, another bar? Why not?” He wiped tears away from his eyes with the back of his hands like a little kid would do. Then he blew his nose with his sleeve. Bubba tried not to wince and failed. “It’s not like I have to go home,” Dearman added.

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