Donna threw her arms around me when she walked in my room to tell me.

The Gallery said yes.

"He wants to commission a piece from you for an exhibit of hot new artists," she said, handing me an envelope. "This is a description of the work he wants."

I stood there waiting for the punch line. The "April fools."

But it never came.

Instead, Donna leapt back into my arms for another squeeze and suddenly I imagined myself as a hot new artist.

Hob-nobbing with celebrities at my openings. My dealer telling me that Princess Di wants me to do her portrait, or, that Stallone just paid two hundred grand for a piece and wants four more.

"Let's get out of here," she said taking me by the hand.

We headed out of Haven House and went down to the beach to celebrate.

*****

POP!

The waiter poured the champagne into our glasses and we lifted them in a toast.

"To you," Donna said as our glasses touched with a small ping. "The most talented man I've ever known. Also the kindest, most caring and...in...I'm no good at this sort of thing." She quickly became embarrassed, lowering her glass.

I tapped my glass to hers once more.

"That was the best toast I've ever heard," I said, smiling. "Thanks."

I started thinking about the changes that have happened so quickly in my life these past few weeks. I think I finally have gotten a handle on my life. I have a feeling that, as the song goes, the best is yet to come.

My art is beginning to take off, I've got a father who loves me, and I've accepted the mistakes that brought me down. I'm moving forward.

*****

Donna took me to the gallery where she works.

It was closed, but she pointed to the spot where my painting would hang.

Right up front. Cool.

*****

I sat on my bed and opened the gallery envelope that Donna gave me.

I stared at the letter for five minutes, not taking my eyes off the description of the kind of artwork they wanted from me for the show.

Two words.

Male nude.