"William Lynch"
by Michael Dell

CHAPTER FIVE

Monday started the same as every other day. No shock there. But one thing was different. William felt the desire to paint.

He carried his easel out to the living room. The same blank canvas from all the past weeks still mocked him. This time he was ready to answer the challenge. He selected his weapon of choice, a thick-bristled brush loaded with hunter green, and prepared to strike.

Was that the phone? The brush was still poised in the air as he carefully listened for the phantom ring. No, apparently not. Must have been his imagination. It was time to work.

Did he remember to turn off the bathroom light? Not wanting to waste electricity, William double-checked. The light was off. But it was better safe than sorry. He returned to the easel. The assault on the canvas was about to begin.

Maybe he should change shirts? He was wearing his favorite T-shirt. It featured a depiction of the cover of Nirvana's In Utero album. The shirt was pretty wrecked and was doing little to conceal its advancing age, but he still didn't want to get paint on it. He put the brush down and peeled off the shirt. Underneath was another white T-shirt advertising Busch beer. He couldn't remember how he came to own it. He didn't even drink beer. Someone must have given it to him.

William always dressed in layers. Not only did it create the illusion that he was more substantial, his poor circulation made it a necessity in order to keep warm. He tossed the Nirvana shirt on his mattress. Now was the time to paint. He was ready to paint.

He walked defiantly towards the canvas and pushed his chair out of the way. Placing his right foot in front of his left, he widened his stance and struck a powerful pose. Still focused on the empty scene in front of him, he reached down with his right hand and drew the still waiting brush before him. He took a deep breath. The time was at hand. Almost.

There was a knock at the door. Apparently the governor reconsidered his case.

"Thank Don Knotts." William often used the name of the googly-eyed sitcom star in place of a supreme being. He quickly set down the brush. It was rare for him to receive unexpected guests, but he wasn't about to complain. While always prudent to check the peephole in such circumstances, William never did. He always half-wished some maniac would try to rob him. At least it would be exciting. He swung the door open without even a "Who's there?"

"I think we need to talk."

It was Meghan.

"Sure," said a somewhat-startled William. "Come on in."

Her determination was clear in her demeanor. She meant business. Yet at the same time she couldn't help but be taken aback by the rather ramshackle appearance of William's apartment.

"Wow," she said, absorbing the surroundings. "I like what you haven't done with the place."

"Yeah, I'm going for that condemned look." He motioned to the couch. "Want to sit down?"

"No, I think I'd rather stand." William wasn't sure if her decision was based on her current mood or the condition of his sofa. He wasn't about to ask. Meghan noticed the easel and the brush still packed with fresh paint. "You weren't painting, were you?"

"I was just about to start."

"I'm sorry," apologized Meghan. "I could come back later..."

"No, no, it's okay. Please, stay."

Her arms were folded in front of her, giving a sense of control. This was betrayed by her closing her eyes in an effort to gather her thoughts. William stood a few feet in front of her with his hands in his pockets, feeling grateful for just being in the same room with her again.

"I'm sorry, I'm just not really sure how to start," she admitted.

"That's okay. No pressure."

"I just want to let you know that I really do like you."

"Thanks."

She seemed to be waiting for something else.

"Oh," William picked up the clue. He gestured to her with his left hand. "And I really like you, too."

"And what happened the other night was nice..."

"I agree."

"Wait, don't mess me up."

"Sorry."

"What was I saying?"

"That the other night was nice."

"Okay. Yeah, the other night was nice. I'm glad it happened. But it was wrong."

William felt like saying something but kept quiet.

"I mean, the act itself wasn't wrong. But the emotions... wait, no, the feelings behind the other night weren't wrong. But the act itself was. Know what I mean?"

William hesitated, not sure if he should answer. Since she didn't seem ready to say anything else until he did, he took that as his cue.

"Yeah."

"I mean I shouldn't have let it happen," she turned and began to pace. "As much as I wanted to, I shouldn't have let it happen."

"Because of Gary?"

She turned to look at William. "Who?"

"Your boyfriend."

"His name's Mark."

"Sorry."

She went back to pacing. "Yes, because of Mark."

William watched calmly as she continued to wear a groove in the floor.

"How serious are you guys?" he asked.

"Pretty serious." She came to a halt staring at the door with her back to William. "I just didn't mean for any of this to happen. My life was already planned. But you were so nice about the car... and you're a vegetarian... and you're an artist..."

"Hey, that's three for me."

She turned to face him. "And you make me laugh..."

"You know, listening to you I can almost forget why I hate myself."

Meghan smiled.

"Listen," continued William, "I can sort of understand how you feel. Believe me, I wasn't expecting to find the girl of my dreams across the hall. Up until two weeks ago a rather foul- smelling truck driver lived there."

"That explains the bedroom carpet." She paused. "You really mean it?"

"Oh yeah, that guy was a slob. I hardly saw him, but when I did he was always..."

"No," interrupted Meghan. "The part about me. Did you mean it?"

"Well... yeah, I guess... so long as you want me to mean it. I don't want to, like, scare you or anything."

"No... I... I just don't know what to do."

"We don't have to rush into anything. With the stuff I have planned it would probably be better if I wasn't involved with anyone. It would just be easier to commit to my art. Don't get me wrong, I'm willing but..."

"I think I just need some time to think."

"That's fine."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"It's not a problem. Honest. I understand."

"So we're agreed?

"Sure."

"We'll just take some time to think things over and then maybe..."

"Maybe."

With that she turned and slowly began to make her way to the door. William was still. He remained silent as he heard the doorknob turn. He had to let her go. He had to.

She opened the door a crack and hesitated. William awaited her next move with anxious anticipation the likes of which he hadn't felt since the conclusion of Starsky and Hutch's two- part Las Vegas adventure.

The door closed and she was once again in his arms. It wasn't long before they were on the floor.

"Are you sure we should do this?" he asked, looking up at Meghan. "I thought we were going to take some time to think?"

"This will give us more to think about."

"Fair enough. Wait, I still don't have any condoms."

"It's okay, I brought one."

"You brought one?"

"Well, two actually."