But in contrast, perhaps, to Laci, Amber was supernaturally easy-going, a blank slate for Scott's tall tales. She didn't want to get in the way or make a big deal out of anything. At every step, Amber seemed to fear demanding too much from Scott.
So we come back to Oprah's story, where Amber's best friend confronts Scott and he cries, then goes to Amber's house and admits that he's been married before, but that he "lost" his wife. He tells Amber he'll understand if she's angry at him.
Amber's response: Why would she be angry? She's disappointed that he lied, but -- still unaware that his wife isn't "lost" but technically "missing" and probably "dead" -- she can understand why he wouldn't want to discuss it.
This is, of course, utterly unthinkable to "most women," who would immediately fire off a barrage of questions: "When were you married? For how long? Did she die? How did she die? Are you over it?" Would it be inappropriate to ask such questions of a man whom you're already sleeping with, a man who picked up your child at day care, whose face will appear with yours in a Christmas card?
"Witness: For the Prosecution of Scott Peterson"
By Amber Frey
ReganBooks
252 pages
Nonfiction
Instead, Amber wondered out loud about it to her friends, but said nothing to Scott. And when you think about how little she pressed him on such an important and life-changing subject, it also makes you wonder how much information she had about him in general. Did she press him about anything? How much did she need to know about him before she fell in love? It's as if anyone could've whipped out a bottle of champagne and won her heart. All it took was an elaborate seafood lasagna.
Beyond her courage to do the right thing by going to the police -- which, let's face it, was nothing she should be congratulated for -- Amber could have offered us ideas or angles on the case outside of her feelings of compassion for the victims, compassion that only shows she has a lot in common with thousands of other people who offered their support to Laci's family. Amber could have given us a message about domestic violence, and said a few words about the fact that, while adorable pregnant white girls with dimples capture the media's attention, countless women are abused and killed by their husbands and boyfriends in this country every single day. Amber could have provided a cautionary tale for other women: Be more suspicious! Or maybe: Ask basic questions!
But what's really sad about Amber is not that she wasn't suspicious enough -- after all, murdering, sociopathic liars are far more difficult to catch in the act than your regular, everyday liars, and our chances of stumbling into someone as disturbed as Scott Peterson are, thankfully, relatively slim. What's truly sad is the empty space in anyone's life that is so quickly and easily filled by the closest proximity to a man vaguely resembling "The One." He was cute. He was nice to her daughter. He made lasagna. Forget that he traveled constantly, or that she seemed to know so little about him. She had a toddler, and a space in her life for a man, no questions asked. At the end of her week in the spotlight, that's the only thing about her that seems truly memorable.