The Grift

by Debra Ginsberg

  “You make it sound so legitimate,” he said.

  Marina bristled but tried not to show it. “You’re the one who came to me,” she said.

  “I did,” he answered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to sound that way.”

  The sun was setting when they got out to stroll on the sand. Marina felt warm and tipsy. It took some time for them to get in step with each other as they walked along the water’s edge. Marina was glad for the noise of the rushing ocean and the slight fuzziness she felt from the alcohol. When Gideon stopped and looked out at the glowing horizon, Marina looked up at him and felt a powerful urge to put her lips against his skin and feel the curve of his shoulders under her hands. He turned and didn’t smile at her, but after a moment he took her hand in his and held it. It was more intimate than a kiss, Marina thought, and she felt a rush of heat spread through her body. Her cheeks flushed despite the cool salty breeze and perspiration prickled her skin. She felt dizzy and had to look away, down the beach, where she could see a white-haired woman dressed in a long robe sitting behind a small table.

  It was a weird enough sight that Marina wondered why she hadn’t seen the old woman when they’d first come down to the beach. She squinted through the dying light to try to make out the details. From this distance, the woman looked like one of those old fortune-tellers who sat along arcade boardwalks. Or a caricature of one. But there was something wrong with the whole picture—not least that there was no arcade or boardwalk and the woman was sitting in the middle of the sand. Gideon didn’t seem to notice that she was staring, and without letting go of her hand he started walking in the old woman’s direction. As they got closer, Marina steeled herself, as if they were about to see something terrifying. The old woman started to look up, and without thinking, Marina tightened her grip on Gideon’s hand. He stopped walking and turned to her.

  “Marina?”

  “Kind of strange, isn’t it?”

  “What?” he said.

  “That woman over there.” She tilted her head in the woman’s direction. She watched his eyes dart to the side.

  “What woman?”

  Before she even turned her head, Marina knew that the woman—or what she thought she’d seen—was gone. As she looked out at the beach, empty except for tangles of seaweed and shells, Marina felt her heart sink. The woman had been there. It took her longer than she wanted to tell Gideon that it was nothing, she’d mistaken a rock or seaweed for something else.

  “It’s getting a little cold out here,” he said. “Shall we go?”

  They rode back to her office in silence and Marina worried—more than she wanted to—that she’d turned him off with her weird behavior on the beach. But then, as she was getting out of his truck, he leaned over and said, “I’d really like to see you again. Maybe a real dinner this time. What do you think?”

  For that next date, Gideon took her to dinner at a small Italian restaurant in Cardiff-by-the-Sea where railroad tracks crossed the coast road and the ocean pounded away just beyond that. It was late by the time they finished and Gideon drove her the short distance back to her house. He pulled into her abbreviated driveway with impressive ease considering the size of his pickup and the narrowness of the streets in the Cardiff hills. He turned off the motor but left the key in the ignition. The radio, set to an oldies station, continued to play and they listened as Bob Seger smoked the last day’s cigarette and turned the page. They sat without speaking until the song finished and the next one began, and that was the moment when Gideon leaned over without any warning and kissed her for the first time. As his lips touched hers, Marina was besieged by opposing sensations. All at once she had the feeling of déjà vu, as if she knew this kiss and had been here a thousand times before, and the conflicting feeling that this was something entirely new and unfamiliar. Then, suddenly, his hands were in her hair, cradling her head, and her arms encircled him, pulling him in so close that the weight of his chest pressed her ring, tucked inside her bra, deep into the flesh of her breast. A sharp jab of pain shot all the way to her spine and she shivered. Behind her closed eyes, Marina was seeing lightning flashes of light. He let her go then and he lifted his face from hers. His fingers stayed on her face, the tips just grazing her cheekbones as if he were trying to read Braille on her skin.

  “Would you like to come inside?” Marina asked. Her voice sounded breathy, low and full of need.

  “Yes,” Gideon said. “There isn’t anything I want more right now.” Marina listened carefully to the timbre of his voice, trying to tease out meanings from the tone behind his words, searching for truths he couldn’t hide, but hearing nothing except what he chose to tell her. He lifted a curl from her shoulder and rubbed it between his fingers like a rabbit’s foot. “But I want to get to know you first,” he said. “I mean really get to know you. I have to understand who you are—what goes on here.” He touched her forehead. “And here.” He pointed in the direction of her heart. “Before I…before we…It’s important to me, Marina. I hope you think so, too.”

  “You realize that’s usually the girl’s line,” Marina said, instantly regretting how cynical she sounded. She smiled to soften her words, but he didn’t follow suit. He just stared at her, boring into her brain with his dark eyes. Something dark and primal—a sharp little fear—twisted in her gut.

  “Are you…are you attracted to me?” she asked. Marina bit her own lip so hard she tasted blood, but it was too late to take the words back into her mouth.

  “Yes,” Gideon said, and the deep, thick sound of that one syllable made her feel weak with desire. “I am so attracted to you I can barely see straight when I’m with you.” He placed his hand on the side of her neck. Marina’s blood went mad, surging wildly through her veins. She could feel her heart beating double time within her chest. “That’s why I want to wait,” he said. “I need to know that it’s not just about sex.”

  Marina’s breath was coming fast. “You surprise me,” she said.

  “Are you disappointed?”

  “Not yet,” she said, and this time he smiled with her.

  They’d been on a slow build ever since that night, getting progressively closer but never going all the way. It was like some kind of grand experiment, Marina thought. How long can two adults act like clumsy virgins? No, not clumsy. There was something very graceful about the way Gideon was choreographing this dance. And it was working. She wanted him in every way, physically and emotionally. And every time they were together, Marina’s world started to spark and expand like some kind of supernova. The strange vision of the fortune-teller on the beach was only the beginning. When Gideon was near her—when he touched her—she saw flashes of light and the shadows of people who weren’t there. She heard laughter and whispering in her ear. One night, as he kissed her good night on her front step, Marina heard a voice say, “Better watch yourself, girlie,” so clearly that she broke away and turned her head in the direction of the sound. But it wasn’t the nearness of the voice that disturbed her as much as whom it belonged to: her mother.

  She was falling in love and it was making her fall apart. Love, the very thought of which gave her a sick feeling in her stomach, was so messy and uncontrolled and selfish. She was already compromising, cutting back her schedule, and her work was suffering. How long before she started to lose pieces of herself as well? Her clients had noticed the change in her attitude, even though she was more careful than ever to keep her personal life guarded from them. That was the warning in her dream, Marina knew. Stop before it is too late. But she didn’t want to stop.

  Unwilling to open her eyes, Marina reached blindly for the shampoo and fumbled with the cap. She knew enough basic psychology to understand what her dream was about. In the dream she was moving closer and closer to Gideon, just as she was in life. The warning—the sense of anxiety—was because it was wrong to be getting romantically involved with him. The roses, a symbol of love and romance, were stuffed into her mouth, an even more obvious statement about how con
flicted she felt. But…Marina grasped at the memory of the dream in her head. She saw herself catching up to him and started to fashion her own imaginary ending.

  She ran her soapy hands along her body, moving up from the curve of her hips to her breasts, circling them with her hands, then stroking, then moving downward again over the flat plane of her belly, her fingertips reaching down lower between her thighs. She bent her head and felt hot water cascading off her neck and shoulders. Behind her closed eyes, she saw Gideon on the evening they’d met, when she’d gotten him into the light and looked into his face. She’d felt it right then—the slow magnetic pull of his eyes and the set of his mouth. Her mind’s eye traveled down to the warm tan skin of his throat. She could see the steady throb of his pulse just below his jawline. Now she watched him raise his hands, saw his strong square fingers, the roughness of his palms. She turned her own hands into his and she guided them down on her slick wet flesh. Showing him exactly where to go, she caressed, stroked, then pushed hard, harder, all her muscles tensing, until she could hear the sound of herself gasping and felt the shower running cold.

  Chapter 17

  Madeline was already at Darling’s by the time Marina arrived. As she made her way through the busy restaurant to Madeline’s table by the window, Marina checked her expression of surprise. She had expected Madeline to be emotional, even angry, but she hadn’t anticipated the cold, hard woman she now saw sipping coffee in front of her. Madeline had lost weight; all the softness was gone from her features. Her bright, blond and perfectly coiffed hair covered her head like a helmet. She held herself stiffly, her chin and elbows jutting out at sharp angles, and her shoulders were drawn up and tensed. She was pale and dressed in an expensive white linen suit that looked as if it was brand-new. Marina thought Madeline had never looked more beautiful, but there was something almost frightening about her appearance—it was as if she were encased in a shiny layer of stainless steel.

  “You look good, Madeline,” Marina said as she sat down. “How are you feeling?”

  “Don’t you know?” Madeline asked. “Can’t you tell?” It was then that Marina could see the shimmer of held-back tears in Madeline’s eyes.

  “I am so sorry about what happened,” Marina responded. “But I’m so glad that you’re all right.”

  Madeline tucked a length of silky hair behind her ear with perfectly manicured fingers. “He’s going to divorce me,” she said. “He hasn’t said so yet, but I know he’s going to. He thinks this is all my fault.” She picked up a napkin and gently blotted her lips. “Well,” she added, “that’s not totally true. He also thinks it’s your fault. He thinks you gave me something in those teas you brought over. Something to make me…” She drifted off for a moment, her eyes clouding over. “But of course that’s ridiculous. Why would you do something like that? That’s what I told him. But he hates me and so he hates you. Convenient, isn’t it?” Madeline opened her blue eyes very wide. Frozen in place, her tears did not fall.

  “Everyone reacts very differently to stress,” Marina said, measuring her words. “This is obviously Andrew’s way of coping. I don’t believe that he hates you, Madeline.”

  “Do you believe that he hates you?” Madeline said. “I mean, that’s really the nutty thing, isn’t it? What could possibly be in it for you if I lost the…you know? What would you get out of that, right? Right, Marina?”

  Willing herself to remain calm and unruffled, Marina spoke in as soothing a tone as she could manage. She’d had plenty of practice with this kind of volatile situation and had learned that it was all about the way you spoke, the image you projected. People who chose to consult psychics were highly suggestible to begin with and responded well to basic hypnotic techniques of quiet repetition.

  “You’ve just been through something tremendously difficult, Madeline,” she began. “The intense stress of something like this can manifest in the mind and the body. It’s important that you allow yourself the space to grieve and to understand what has happened. The important thing is that your body is healthy, and once it has healed, you can work on understanding the lesson in all of this. In our work, we—”

  “Oh, yes, our work,” Madeline spat. “Our work. Our work worked out well, didn’t it? Sometimes I wonder. What was in those teas you brought me, Marina? You charged me enough for them.”

  “I’m not the person you are angry with,” Marina said softly. “You know I would never do anything to harm you in any way. If anything, the opposite is true. In these last few months, I’ve felt your pain as if it were my own. I’ve tried everything I can to guide you in the right direction. I’ve seen you so much more than I usually see my clients, and perhaps that’s been the problem. Perhaps we’ve both asked too much of the universe.” Marina took a breath. “I cannot influence the spirits or the future, Madeline; I can only receive messages and guidance. This is the role I’ve been given in life. I know you understand that. But this doesn’t mean I don’t feel for you as a woman. It’s not so cut and dried.”

  Madeline’s posture relaxed and her eyes grew softer as Marina spoke. Marina knew she wasn’t listening to the words themselves but rather finding comfort in their sound and rhythm. “I know,” Madeline said. “You’re right. I didn’t mean it to come out like that. And maybe this is wrong, but I think of you as a friend, Marina. I mean, don’t you?”

  Madeline had shifted her body so that she was facing Marina directly, her arms open and hands held out. She was so needy, Marina thought, with such a vast emptiness inside her.

  “You know,” Marina said carefully, “maybe that’s part of the problem. Maybe being friends has made it more difficult to actually do the kind of work we need to do.” As soon as the words had left her mouth, Marina knew that she had miscalculated badly. Madeline’s face hardened once again and Marina could see her bristling. She hurried to add something that might undo the damage. “Of course I think of you as a friend, Madeline. But what may be happening is that because I think of you as a friend I am not as impartial as I should be. My own feelings get in the way and block the messages I need to receive. Does that make sense?”

  “I suppose,” Madeline said. “And I suppose you can’t really pay someone to be your friend, can you? I mean, you shouldn’t.”

  Marina sighed, already tired by the encounter, feeling the will to make nice with this woman slipping away from her. All she really wanted to do was to break it off. Madeline had become more of a liability than an asset. Beyond that, though, there was the issue of the time she was spending here. Since Gideon’s arrival, Marina had found much more value in her free time. “You aren’t paying me to be your friend,” she said finally.

  “I know,” Madeline said. “And I’m not paying you at all right now. Andrew’s cut off my Marina allowance. Isn’t that pathetic? Daddy says I can’t see you anymore.” Madeline’s eyes filled once more, but she blinked them hard. “So I’m going back to my old business. I used to make these great gift baskets—did I ever tell you that? I stopped doing it after we got married. I don’t know why. Yes, I do. I was trying to get pregnant. We were starting a family. I have—I mean, I made one for you. I have it—it’s in the car. I was thinking I could bring it by your office?” But Madeline didn’t give Marina a chance to respond before continuing.

  “Andrew can’t tell me what I can and can’t do. It’s ridiculous. I’ll make my own money. I’ve done it before. Maybe by the time he gets ready to divorce me, I’ll have enough stashed so that…Well, it doesn’t matter; I’m still going to sue his ass. Anyway, Marina, the point is—I need a reading. I’m going to pay for it, don’t worry. I’m at a crossroads and I need you to look into the future or read my cards or whatever and tell me which way to go.” Madeline paused finally, looking down at her coffee cup. “I think you owe me that much, Marina,” she added softly. “At least that much.”

  “That’s fine, Madeline, but we’re going to have to wait a few weeks. I am completely booked at the moment.”

  They both le
aned back in their chairs and Madeline clicked her fingernails on the tabletop. Marina took a long sip of her coffee, debating how best to extricate herself now without further annoying Madeline.

  “You know, I’ve been meaning to ask but I totally forgot, seeing as how I was busy losing my baby the last time I saw you,” Madeline said, pursing her lips around the words. “Who was that cute guy you were kissing when I came to your office? How long has that been going on? I mean, there’s booked and then there’s booked, right?”

  Marina could feel herself redden, but it wasn’t from anything as innocent as a blush. “You know, I don’t think—”

  “Didn’t he call the paramedics for me? Since, unfortunately, he now knows a lot about me, it’s only fair I know something about him. Very good-looking, I have to say. Nice job with that, Marina.”

  Marina couldn’t believe Madeline had noticed—or even remembered. She took a deep breath and prepared herself to respond, but before she could get any words out, the two of them were interrupted by almost the last person Marina wanted to see: Eddie Perkins.

  “Marina!” he said, coming over to their table. “What a coincidence. I saw you over here and just had to come say hello.” He smiled expansively, creasing his cheeks. His gaze, fixed on Marina for much longer than was comfortable, finally drifted over to Madeline, whom he seemed to quickly assess and approve of in the way a hungry coyote might a kitten. He offered Madeline his hand. “Eddie Perkins,” he said. Madeline stared blankly at him for a moment and then asked, “Do I know you?”

  “No, ma’am, I don’t think so,” Eddie answered, his arm still extended like a branch between them. “I’d certainly remember a face as lovely as yours.”

  Madeline’s lips formed a small but definite smile, and Marina wondered not for the first time how Eddie got away with it. He was so full of crap it was practically oozing from him.