Wedding Anniversary Blues
by
Owlcroft
Lydia always stopped to visit her parents when she had to meet with the Scarab House lawyers and accountants in New York. Beetlejuice had set up portals to both New York and Peaceful Pines for her so it was quick and easy and she tried to time her visits for days when her father wasn't playing golf or canasta at his country club. This time, however, Delia was alone at the Deetz residence and declared that it was time for a "just us girls chat" about things they never discussed "when the menfolk were around".
"We'll have a real old gabfest, just the two of us, dear." She reached into the fridge and pulled out a pitcher of pale yellow liquid. "Get two of the glasses, will you?"
Lydia did so, asking what they were having to drink this warm sunny afternoon.
"It's just some lemonade," Delia told her. "A recipe I got from a friend." She poured two tall glasses and handed one to her step-daughter. "Cheers!" she said and took a healthy sip.
"Thanks. I actually did want some advice from someone. You see, I don't know what to get Beej for our anniversary this month. He's so hard to shop for, since he can basically have anything he wants." Lydia sampled her lemonade, looked at it appreciatively, and sipped some more. "And it's our fourth, so it's not really linked to anything like the fifth or the tenth." She looked at her glass again. "This isn't ordinary lemonade!"
"No, it's called Luckenbach Lemonade and it's made with bourbon and vodka. Yummy, isn't it?" Delia took a healthy swig, then thought about anniversary gifts. "Well, you have the imagination, the flair in the family. Can't you plan something, a trip or a fancy evening out, for the two of you?"
Lydia sighed. "I've done that. All the couples things I could think of, and I've made him things by hand that he would never have bothered to get for himself. But I'm running out of ideas now with birthdays and Christmas and three anniversaries every year."
"Well, what does he really enjoy? I mean," Delia managed a slight blush, "besides . . . you know, that." Lydia looked at her in surprise and her step-mother continued. "All men enjoy that, and, of course, so do we. If they know what they're doing." She fiddled with her glass. "I certainly have no complaints in that area." She looked down at the tabletop with a smile that managed to be both coy and smug.
"Um," Lydia thought wildly for a moment about saying either I really don't want to hear about that or my sex life is just amazing, thanks. Finally she decided to simply say, "Neither do I."
"It's just that I was wondering because you two don't have any children yet. Not that I'm prying or anything! I just wondered, that's all, if . . . well, if you were having any problems in that area, or if you'd changed your mind about having children." Delia looked really depressed at that thought.
It was definitely time to pour more lemonade. Lydia did so, saying, "Actually, we're just waiting until we have Scarab House fully established first. Beej told me it's up to me to say when, and I've been thinking maybe next spring or summer. We do want children, you know."
Delia beamed at her. "I know I'm a little young to have grandchildren, but I also know that Charles is so looking forward to having little ones to spoil."
Lydia smiled at her and drank more lemonade. "Well, at some point you'll have them. We're thinking probably two. But not just yet." She sighed. "And I still don't have any ideas for this anniversary. He's so hard to shop for, and he deserves the best gift I can find. I know, I know," she sighed again. "It's the thought that counts. But I want to show him just how much I appreciate him. He's the best husband anyone could ever have, so supportive and helpful and just . . . sweet and loving and wonderful. Why can't I think of something wonderful to give him?"
"I don't suppose there's a cologne he prefers?" At Lydia's surprised look and decided headshake, she thought for another few moments before saying, "There is one thing I can think of." She paused just for a moment before adding, "Silk boxer shorts. They're kind of a luxury item and something only you would give him." She peeped at Lydia then returned her focus to her glass. "Maybe in . . . red? I understand that . . . most men really enjoy the way they feel." She had her coy/smug look again.
"Year before last," Lydia told her. "Hand-sewn, in dark purple. And he does love them."
Delia held up her hands helplessly. "Well, then, I'm out of ideas. Unless you wanted to just take a weekend off, go somewhere special, just the two of you."
"We could do that." Lydia drank more lemonade, then decided she'd better stop. "It's a little ordinary, though – not really special. Oh, well. What matters is that he knows how much I love him."
"I'm certain he knows that, dear. The two of you might already have all you need. Each other." Delia looked just a trifle envious, then drank more lemonade.
ooooo
Lydia had been gone forever – at least five hours. And Beetlejuice was fed up with his chemistry formulae, with catching beetles, with playing the piano. Plus, if he was honest with himself (which didn't happen all that often), he missed her. The only thing to be done was to pop into the Roadhouse and maybe find somebody he could bother for a while. Fortunately for him, Jacques was well along with his so-called cardio exercise on his new rowing machine.
Beetlejuice got a brief acknowledging nod from him, then stood watched him puffing and pulling for about five minutes before saying casually, "I hate to break it to you, but you're going in the wrong direction."
Jacques immediately threw an alarmed look over his shoulder, then realized he'd been had once again. "Be-attle-jooz! I am in training!"
"Hmm. I suppose you could put training wheels on that thing, but you'd still be going in the wrong direction." Beetlejuice cackled loudly at the skeleton's second look over his shoulder.
"You . . . you japester, you," said a resigned Jacques. "What are you doing here anyway?"
"I . . . I, well, Lyds is away and I just . . . needed somebody to annoy, and who's my favorite bony target?" He grinned at the hapless skeleton.
"Moi," sighed Jacques, "always moi."
"Besides," Beetlejuice idly examined a pair of hand weights on the floor to one side of the rowing machine, "our anniversary's coming up and I need an idea for a present. I can't think of anything good for this one and I thought maybe you'd have some ideas." He kicked one of the weights thoughtfully.
"Hmm. I do not know, mon ami. Jewelry, flowers, parfum? Zose are ze usual gifts, n'est pas?" Jacques scratched his skull in thought. "Per'aps a box of chocolates or fancy lingerie." He clicked his finger bones together. "Of course! A lacy négligée or per'aps a bustier? With sheer black stockings. You know, for zose sexy times," he leered at a stunned Beetlejuice.
"Hey!" Beetlejuice got his voice back. "Watch it, bonehead! That's my wife you're drooling over!" He shrugged then and turned away from the grinning skeleton. "Besides, I already got her that, two years ago. In red." He smiled at a memory, then turned back to his former housemate. "You're no help at all," he groused.
After a quick, rapid tap on the door, Ginger peeked in. "Oh!" she said in exaggerated surprise. "Who are you?"
"Boy, your memory's really shot, isn't it? I used to live here." Beetlejuice grinned at her then his grin widened. "I used to live here, but then I found somebody better to live with."
The pink spider held her claws in front of her nose and waggled them at him.
The grin slowly faded. "Lyds is away for a few hours and I thought it would be a good time to shop for an anniversary present. But," he sighed, "I'm all out of ideas."
"Flowers?" Ginger suggested. "Jewelry? A box of candy?" She thought for a moment, then snapped her claws together. "Sexy lingerie!"
Jacques laughed and twirled his moustache. "No, she already has zat – in red! Ooh-la-la!"
"Now cut that out!" said an outraged Beetlejuice.
"Okay, then, how about a little couples getaway? Somewhere nice for the weekend, just the two of you." Ginger smiled at the others hopefully.
"We've done that. And it's not really . . . you know, special. Not special enough anyway." Beetlejuice turned and scowled at the weights on the floor and kicked one of them again. "It should be something that . . . that . . . tells her . . . you know. How I feel and stuff." His scowl deepened.
Jacques leaned on the oars and gave his friend an understanding look. "It should say to her zat you miss her when you are not wiz her, n'est pas? Zat she is ze sun in ze sky and ze moon at night and ze beat of your 'eart."
The scowling ghost shrugged, his back to his friends. "Yeah, maybe . . . something like that," he muttered.
Ginger rested her chin on a claw and thought. "It sounds to me like you both have all you need. Each other."
Beetlejuice suddenly snapped his head to the right, said, "She's back!" and vanished, leaving his trademark tin can, bat, and striped heart behind to dissipate slowly on the floor.
Ginger looked up at Jacques and sighed to herself. "It must be awful nice to have someone to care about that much. And who would care about me – I mean them – just as much." She quietly crossed twelve of her digits.
Jacques sidled closer to the pink spider. "It must truly be wonderful," he said, then closed his eyes. "Ging-air. If I . . . if you . . . if you could feel zat way about someone . . . zey would be ze luckiest person in the Neizzerworld."
"Oh, Jacques." She reached up and took his bony hand.
ooooo
Once Lydia and Beetlejuice had exchanged the details of their afternoons, they were equally delighted to find that they'd both had the idea of a weekend get-away to the Cabo San Mucus beach resort. Gifts? Gifts were over-rated. And unnecessary. "After all," Lydia whispered to her husband, "we both have –"
"All we need," Beetlejuice murmured to his wife.
