Chapter 6: Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary

Mary, I don't think I can do this anymore.

There had to be a better way to say it. He could fashion a lie about a rare South African disease that was contagious and halted all of his hedonistic activities.

Like she would ever believe that.

So here he was, wrapped in bed sheets that still smelled of Velma, sitting in her bathroom while she slept. With a goddamn telephone. It was a caricature of a caricature of desperation.

"Hello, Mary Sunshine speaking."

Maybe he should have thought of something better before he called.

"Mary, it's Billy. We need to talk."

"Well, we're talking."

"I can't...you can't come over this Sunday."

"Why not?"

"I'm...getting married."

He thought for a moment she would choke on her own laughter.

"Married! Sold your soul to the Devil, I can understand, but married?"

"It's true, I swear. She's one of my ex-clients."

"But you hate your clients."

"Not this one. I got her a ring and everything."

How the hell was he going to explain this to Velma?

"So you love her?"

Billy said nothing.

Mary said, "That's what I thought."

xxxxx

She was charming and beautiful and still thriving behind bars.

Billy knew beauty as pearls strung like a noose around a woman's neck, as gentle curling hair and swooshing gowns. Those women were beautiful; these women were strong.

Somehow she managed both.

"Mr. Flynn?"

"Miss Kelly, I presume?"

"I believe Matron Morton mentioned me."

"In passing."

"She said you never lost a case."

"And proud of it. So I find it reasonable to charge $5,000 for my services."

"That's pretty steep."

"Well, if you can't afford it..."

Any other broad would have lowered her voice, cooing something about compromises and dragging a hand across his chest. But Velma Kelly was too proud for compromises.

"I can afford it."

He looked her (straight in the eye) and smiled. She smiled back, extended her hand.

He shook it.

When he went to get a cigarette from he coat pocket, his hand couldn't grasp the case of cigarettes. After a moment, he realized his cigarettes had vanished.

Velma Kelly blew smoke through the bars.

Thief.

xxxxx

Billy and Velma didn't believe in coincidences.

So there was no reason that Mary Sunshine's headlines suddenly turned caustic and negative. There was no reason that it occurred only two weeks after Kitty Baxter won her case and five days after a certain phone call.

So when Billy Flynn lost his first case (to the truth), Billy and Velma knew exactly what to do.

Velma and Roxie decided (peculiarly timed, but still) that Chicago was no longer big enough for them, so they took their charade on a little tour of the state. The country. The world.

And Billy set his eyes toward Manhattan, the only other place he thought was big enough for him.

Velma could promise to stop by New York on her tour, and Billy could promise to track her down if he ever traveled, but neither Velma nor Billy were good a keeping a promise. So they had to settle for never again.

Goodbyes didn't suit them. They lived with the knowledge that they were slipping out of splendor, not going out with the bang they wanted. So it was a quick and useless goodbye, something that couldn't last forever, but had to nonetheless.

Mary couldn't have love, so she loved the fact that Billy couldn't have it either.

Mary Sunshine. She considered changing her name.

But she didn't.

Fin.