Brian decided the free university was exactly what he’d needed. He arranged with his manager at the coffee shop to work the early shift on the weekends, as the classes he wanted to take were all on Saturday and Sunday afternoons. It made for very long days, but he wasn’t about to complain.
“Not that I’m the next Picasso or Renoir,” he said to Conley at one point when he got home from an advanced drawing class.
“I’m leaning more toward Wyeth.”
Brian snorted. “I should have his talent. Still, my instructors are encouraging and I’m learning new techniques, which is what I wanted.”
While Brian was dealing with work and school, Conley was considering their future.
He had laughed when Brian teased about Conley’s pushing him around in a wheelchair when he was an old man. But it’s not a laugh
