All I have to do is look at her to get what she means. Amanda’s new wardrobe upgrade screams Andrew hired a stylist for me. It’s a nice mix of tastefully erotic and Girls Gone Wild. Never in a bajillion years would Amanda wear this outfit, with a push-up bra that turns her breasts into a reportable FAA obstacle, but she and Andrew are in that early phase of a relationship.
You know. The one where all you can think about is being naked together. Society requires that we cover our erogenous zones in public, so this is the next best thing.
In Man Land.
“Quit staring at my boobs.”
“I can’t help it. They’re so...prominent.”
She tugs at the hem of her shirt and whoops! There we go. Don’t need that helicopter tour of the Grand Canyon that Declan was planning for tomorrow. Just got an eyeful.
“You could sell tickets to that view,” I say with some speculation. My treadmill counter ticks over the two-mile mark. We should celebrate with another latte.
“Andrew. It’s all his fault. And frankly, yours, too.”
“Mine?”
“If you’d just let Declan spoil you a little, Andrew wouldn’t feel the need to one-up Declan all the time.”
“Huh?”
“They’re trying to outshine each other. Declan keeps getting upset that you won’t wear the jewelry or the clothes he’s buying you. Now he’s prowling around Tesla dealers and thinking about getting you a new car.”
“WHAT?” Declan’s earlier Tesla joke pings in my mind. He wasn’t joking?
“And you should accept it!”
I give her a speculative look. “Is Andrew buying you a car?”
She shrugs, then brightens. “I don’t know. He hates the Turdmobile, so...”
“I don’t need these things—necklaces, clothes, fancy cars. Do you? Really?”
Her eyes glaze over. I know she’s thinking about Andrew naked. “It’s nice. I don’t know.” She shakes her wrist. The charms on the Tiffany bracelet cheer for her. “He likes to give me these things. It brings him joy.”
I start to say something snarky, but realize that won’t improve matters. I am at a crossroads with Declan and need to fix this. Sarcasm doesn’t repair anything.
“Doesn’t it make you feel weird accepting all these lavish gifts?”
She peers at me in confusion. “No. I’m not asking for them. I’ve never pressured Andrew to spend money on me. Ever. If he wants to give me these beautiful items as a present, then what’s the harm?”
What’s the harm?
“Don’t you feel like it’s too much, too soon? I’ve been with Declan for more than two years and some of the gifts he tries to give me feel too extravagant.”
Amanda’s eyes tighten, her head shaking slightly, her expression one of intense thought. “If I felt like it made me obligated to him, I suppose it would bother me.” Her eyes dart nervously to me. “Is that it?”
“No! No,” I protest. “Not at all. Declan’s made it really clear that he wants me to have all these beautiful luxuries because he can give them. Not because it ties me to him, or makes me think I owe him.”
“Is this about Steve?”
“Wha?”
“Are you worried Declan’s trying to shape you too much, like Steve did? Worried that he wants you to wear the ‘right’ clothes, drive the ‘right’ car, eat the ‘right’ foods?”
“No.” The answer comes so easily, and is crystal clear. For a topic I can’t quite wrap my head around, this much is obvious. “I don’t get that vibe from him at all. Never have.”
Her shoulders relax, and she grabs for her water bottle on the treadmill rack, drinking half before turning back to me with a smile. “Then he just wants to share.”
“Share?”
“Share his life with you.” A sly smile tickles her lips. “We think of these choices Andrew and Declan make as luxuries, but to them, they’re not. A Tesla to Andrew is like buying a cheap Toyota to us. Bringing an Italian designer into your hotel suite to create outfits for you is like one of us going to Ann Taylor at the mall and asking the salesperson for some color-coordination help.”
I slow the treadmill down to 2.5 miles per hour and finish off my water, all while contemplating her words.
“Shannon, maybe this is just who Declan is, and he wants you to embrace that. Let him.”
“How did you become so wise?”
She jangles her Tiffany charm bracelet. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m blowing smoke out my own ass. I just know that Andrew is giving me peeks into his real life, and I’m accepting that. Reveling in it. Besides,” she says with a confident laugh, “it’s not like I’m marrying the guy anytime soon!”
It’s hard to believe that two days ago she was bringing me lattes from Starbucks in the prep room at Farmington Country Club, acting as a filter between me and Mom.
It’s even harder to realize she’s really with Andrew, and that they’re happy, after two years of Andrew being a douche and not letting himself truly fall in love with her.
But you know what’s harder?
Realizing that she’s right.
Maybe I’ve gone about this all wrong. Amanda has a great point.
Maybe I need to let Declan spoil me a little.
It can’t hurt, right?
* * *
“What are you doing?” Declan asks as he walks into the bathroom, naked, obviously ready to take a shower. I eye the wall of glass, twelve different shower heads all positioned at various angles. If the entire enclosure weren’t lined with Italian marble I’d think this was a prison.