Beetlejuice: The Next Generation
by
Owlcroft
They sat close together on the parlor couch, with the last of the champagne in their glasses on the table in front of them.
Lydia reached for hers, took a sip, and replaced it. "I always liked her, you know. She's smart and funny and she loves him so much. And her eye for color is astounding; she's made some great suggestions for some of my designs."
Beetlejuice smiled slowly. "I always liked her 'cause Chazz did. And because . . . she's from here. You know." His smile faded a bit then grew again. "Can you imagine what their kids will look like? I hope they get her hair – did you call that slate blue?"
Lydia leaned against him a little more. "Mm-hm. And her eyes are cobalt. With Chazz's green eyes, our grandchildren might –"
He shook his head. "Nope. The green's recessive, so the kids'll probably have your brown eyes. You know what, though? I don't care. I just hope they have kids. Some day."
"I did ask Chazz if he'd thought about . . . well, about the fact that they might have as much trouble conceiving as we did. He said he and Suzy talked about it and they decided being together was all they wanted and that kids would be a bonus." Lydia sighed just a little, then brightened. "But if we could have kids, then so can they," she stated definitively. Then she paused for a moment before adding, "I have to be honest. I like Suzy's dad, Curly, but her mother gets a little tiresome after a while."
"Barbie? The one who keeps talking about her family being 'founding members'," he pitched his voice extremely high and Lydia joined in to say with him, "'of the Society of the Neitherworld's Oldest and Moldiest'." They both laughed after that and Beetlejuice went on. "She's okay, I guess, just a little too impressed with her background. Hmm. Wonder if Suzy's going to keep her last name, like you kept yours." He moved just enough to encircle Lydia's shoulders with his right arm. "Suzy Cue-Juice? Cue-Juice? I don't know about that." He shrugged. "Up to her, though."
"How about Suzy Juice-Cue?" laughed Lydia. "That's even worse."
They settled back, both smiling, leaning their heads together. "Maybe even best of all, no ceremony in the human world." Beetlejuice paused, then said, "You do think he meant that, right? That he didn't want one there? Maybe he was just remembering all the stories about how much trouble ours was – I mean, how great ours was and how nothing could compare to it!" he hurriedly backtracked.
Lydia laughed again. "You darling. I'm sure he just wants one right here at home and nothing else is necessary. All our family will be here for it, so why should they have another? And this wedding is going to be so much easier than Beatie's. The bride's parents have all the responsibility. Oh, Beej, I do hope they'll be as happy as we are." She thought about that for a moment, then added, "Although nobody could be, so I guess I hope they'll be almost as happy as we are."
That earned her a grateful kiss and a squeeze. But after that, Beetlejuice frowned and reached for her left hand with his. He stared at her ruby ring for a few seconds, then said, "Sometimes I think I hate love."
"What?" said an astounded Lydia.
"I don't mean . . . it's not that I actually hate it, but I hate the way it makes me feel." He knit his brows in thought. "That's still not right. What I hate is how it hurts. It can hurt so much. I'll be grateful to you forever for giving me that, but the hurt . . . sometimes it's still so big." He brought her hand up and kissed it gently. "You know what I mean."
She turned to look at him directly. "Um, I'm not entirely sure I do. Do you mean it hurts to . . . to think about Beatie? I thought we were –"
He kissed her hand again, shook his head, and smiled briefly. "Nah. It's all the love. All the kinds of it, the . . . degrees of it. I mean . . . it hurts to worry about somebody, to care for them. It hurts when they get mad at me, or I disappoint them. Disappoint you." He peeked at her face to see if she was understanding what he was saying. "So much of it hurts. It's hard to deal with it sometimes. Maybe 'cause I wasn't expecting it. When I found you, when I started to realize what I felt for you, it was . . . it was wonderful, overwhelming, incredible. And it didn't hurt at all. But then I started to feel scared for you, or worried about you, or I felt guilty because I'd let you down –"
"You never did that." She tightened her grip on his hand.
"Yeah, I did. Lots of times; you just don't remember." Beetlejuice grinned at her. "If you've got a couple of hours, I could list them." His expression turned serious again almost immediately. "And then I realized that love means pain, too. I guess it has to, if you think about it. Right?"
Lydia frowned down at their clasped hands. "Maybe I never thought about it that way."
"But you have to feel it, too. Since you . . . I mean, if you . . . I mean since you love me." He ducked his head down and rubbed his cheek on her hand. "And the kids. You have to feel that pain sometimes, Lyds, my dear one."
"I suppose I do. I just never realized how much love makes us suffer. Oh, Beej," she turned to him. "You always make me see things from a new perspective. See them different – even understand them better."
"Well, it's been a while now since I started having all these feelings. In fact," Beetlejuice thought briefly, then kissed the top of his wife's head, "it's been a whole generation. It still amazes me, my sweeting, my babes, that we've brought up a family, started them on their way. A new generation . . . from us." He shook his head in wondering delight. "Still can't believe it sometimes."
Lydia snuggled her head under his chin. "Me, either. Despite all the pain, hmm? Sweetheart, it hasn't been all pain, even though it's been all love." She lifted her head to look at him questioningly. "It hasn't been all pain, has it?"
"You have given me so much pain. But it is worth all that pain and so very much more for all the joy, and the peace, and the . . . the meaning you've given to my existence. For the satisfaction and the contentment and the deep, deep happiness. For the love. I wouldn't be without this pain for anything." He settled her head back under his chin, and sighed.
"It's like being stabbed sometimes, a piercing kind of pain, isn't it?" She thought about that, then added, "But it's a kind of . . . sweet pain. I know that sounds silly."
"Huh-uh. I feel that a lot. But that's 'cause my love for you is so big, so . . . all-encompassing. Maybe," he cocked his head and wrinkled up his face, "maybe it's not pain? Maybe that's just the way love feels sometimes?"
"Maybe." Lydia closed her eyes, nestled in her husband's arms. "Maybe our love is so complete, so perfect that it feels sharp and bright and . . . I don't know, like pain even when it's joy. Because it's so enormous."
Beetlejuice sighed again, contentedly. "And now we'll have that feeling for Suzy 'cause we'll love her, too, right? It'll be more of the love that sometimes feels like pain, but it'll still be love. You know what?" He tucked his chin down against Lydia's head. "I don't hate love at all. Even when it hurts so much. I want all I can get of it, I need all I can get of it." When Lydia looked up at him, he kissed her. "Because it's what I feel for you."
Pains of love be sweeter far than all the other pleasures are.
John Dryden