The general wore a pink floral-print blouse; nevertheless there was something warlike about the girl's bearing. She dismounted and strode over, her carefully tapered eyebrows drawn together in a purposeful frown. "You're the only one I can trust," she said.
"Thank you," Annie said uncertainly. She wished she had worn a hat. She put up a hand to shade her eyes. "Can we sit in the golf cart? Out of the sun?"
Amber nodded gravely and led the way to the cart.
"Now," Annie said, noting Amber's determined little frown. She thought of her heartbroken sister, her heartbroken mother, her own heartbroken self, and she felt a rush of sympathy for this girl, whatever the problem might be. She put her hand on Amber's tanned arm. "What is it?"
Another golf cart, bearing an older man and woman, puttered by. The couple were pretending to argue, laughing and pointing their fingers at each other.
"We have a friend in common," Amber said.
"We have several."
"I mean another one."
The grass shimmered in the light. Annie waited. Amber had beautiful hands, a short shapely manicure. Annie looked down at her own blunt nails.
"Do you know Gwendolyn Barrow?" Amber asked.
"Gwendolyn Barrow?" What could Frederick's daughter have to do with Amber? "Well, yes, I've met her. Once or twice."
"What do you think of her?"
"I don't really have an opinion, Amber. As I said, I met her just a couple of times. Do you know her?"
"No, not her, but I know someone very close to her. And I know him very well." She pursed her lips and gave Annie a sly look.
"Oh," said Annie. "You're friends with her brother Evan?"
"No, no, not Evan," Amber said. "Freddie."
Amber had rather humid eyes, Annie noticed. Big, moist brown eyes. Like an animal, a hooved animal. "Freddie?"
"The father. Frederick, Freddie."
Annie willed the blush away. "Ah, Frederick. Yes, I know him. I didn't realize you did, too."
Amber pulled her mouth again into the little simpering smile. She tilted her head and, from that angle, caught Annie's eye. "I know him, all right," she said.
Heat radiated down from the canvas roof of the golf cart. The clarity of the air was unrelenting. Even billowing clouds looked hard, sharply outlined against the blue sky.
"I knew I could trust you. He speaks so highly of you."
"Does he?" Annie felt Amber watching her, scrutinizing her, looking for clues. She breathed as regularly as she could and looked Amber in the eye. Freddie, indeed. "Well, I think very highly of Frederick, too."
Amber bit her plump lower lip and nodded. It was a proprietary gesture, an acknowledgment that others might well admire what was hers. She offered Annie a piece of gum from a blister pack and, when Annie refused, popped three pieces into her own mouth. The smell of artificial fruit, which Annie associated with air fresheners in public bathrooms, wafted over from the gum.
"How do you know Frederick? If you don't mind my asking."
"Oh no, I totally don't. It's one of the things I really need to share with you. So, Crystal and I were home-sitting for him. He has this gorgeous home in Massachusetts. On the water and everything. But then Crystal was at this seminar."
Amber stopped and looked uncomfortable.
"She's a student, too?" Annie asked. She had no idea where this private meeting under the blazing sun was going, but she wanted to move it along.
"Crystal? Yeah. She's going for her certificate to be a life coach. And so she was gone, right? And then Freddie came back unexpectedly, and well, it just sort of happened." She paused and assumed a dreamy expression.
Annie listened in a fog of abstracted fascination. She could scarcely understand the words formed by Amber's pretty lips, much less believe them, yet of course she heard and of course she knew it was absolutely true. Frederick, her Frederick, though he was hers only in her imagination and her memory, her Frederick and this girl. "I'm not sure why you're telling me this," she said as politely as she could. Although she was quite sure of one reason. Amber was staking her claim, planting her flag, and at the same time doing a little reconnaissance of the enemy lines. You really are a general at war, Annie thought. But I am not your enemy. I'm the war-torn village, the smoking rubble abandoned by all but the crows.
"It was such a coincidence when I saw you here! I feel this heavy burden, in more ways than one, believe me, and there you were. It just seemed so perfect. Like, ordained almost. I super hate having this secret."
"But why is it a secret at all?"
Amber gave a bitter sigh. "His family."
Annie almost laughed. Yes, they would be a problem.
"I've never met them, right? But I can tell already that Gwendolyn is very possessive. Very, very possessive. And controlling. Freddie practically told me. And the son--he just wants Freddie in New York. They both do."
"But there's nothing wrong with wanting to be close to your father."
"They just want him at their dinner parties to impress their friends. Believe me, I know the type. He's a celebrity, you know. In that world, anyway. You have to have an artistic sense to get what I mean. Have you ever read any of his books?"