Beach Thoughts
by
Owlcroft
It had been a great day at Maliboo Beach. The water had been exactly the right temperature and a strong current was keeping all the trash and debris yards away from the beach itself. Lydia frolicked in the mild surf and Beetlejuice floated above her, occasionally sending waves at her and then dodging the spurts of foam she sent up at him. The twosome laughed a great deal and generally tired themselves out by lunchtime.
Lunch was spread out on the giant plaid beach blanket and comprised a tarantula 'burger' and a jar of pickled pillbugs for Beetlejuice and egg salad sandwiches for Lydia. Beetlejuice had phlegmonade while Lydia had brought iced tea in a thermos. They ate almost to repletion, then Lydia produced dessert – oatmeal raisin cookies, which Beetlejuice could not pass up even though they were relatively healthy.
After demolishing the cookies, Beetlejuice lay back and sighed in contentment. "Those raisin things were almost as good as dried beetles." He sighed again. "Now this is the afterlife, right, babes?"
Lydia smiled at him. "You certainly picked the right day for it. It's perfect, Beej. Thank you for bringing me."
He grinned back at her and turned onto his side toward her. "Anything for you, Lyds."
She smiled even wider, then faced the ocean and watched the waves glopping onto the beach for several minutes. When she looked back at Beetlejuice, he'd fallen asleep.
Lydia contemplated the ghost lying on the blanket next to her, who looked younger, more innocent, gentler, quieter when he slept. He was stretched out on his side, one hand tucked under his head, the other curled up on the blanket. He wasn't even snoring, and his snoring could usually wake . . . well, wake the dead. There was just a very faint susurration of sound, almost like purring. He looked so cute, so vulnerable. And he was, wasn't he? So susceptible to anxiety and insecurity and hurt feelings. But that was because of her. He was only vulnerable when it came to her and she could hurt him worse than anything or anyone else. It was a huge responsibility when she came to consider it.
She lay down next to him, within touching distance. She looked at him then kissed the end of her finger and gently pressed it to the back of his hand.
When did it turn into that kind of love? she asked herself. The physical kind, the kind that wants kisses, real kisses . . . and more. I guess it was gradual; there was no one moment when I knew it had changed. She rested her head on one hand and watched Beetlejuice sleep. You became necessary to me; not just important, but I need you – need you with me, always. You do need me, too, don't you, Beej? I think you do, but it's so hard to tell sometimes. You're so closed in, so . . . repressed, my poor Beej. If you do love me, you won't tell me.
Lydia realized then that he didn't have to say it. As long as he did love her, even if it was the love of a friend – well, she'd be try to be happy with what she could get.
Wake up, Beej. Please wake up and look at me with that smile and those half-closed eyes the way you do. Reach for me and pull me to you and kiss me. Please kiss me, Beej. She sighed and lifted her head a trifle to stare yearningly at his adorable ear. I could work up to it from his cheek when I kiss him good-bye, she thought. Maybe I could try that tonight.
She lay back down and looked at his golden chest hair, visible in the V of his orange-and-purple Hawaiian shirt. Then her gaze travelled down to his endearing poochy belly, and then to his striped Bermuda shorts. Oh, it occurred to her suddenly, he may have . . . She blushed even thinking it. He may have blond pubic hair. I wonder . . . how . . . oh, dear. She fanned her face even as she continued to ponder exactly what he looked like without clothes. How . . . what size . . . Oh, dear again! More mental images, more fanning, more blushing.
When did I start thinking about you like this? I know I was curious when we were in Sherweird Forest. Ooh, those tights you wore! Then we kissed at Christmas, but like friends . . . mostly. I want more than that. Beej, I love you and . . . I want you, and I want you to love me and want me. Lydia pulled her eyes back up to Beetlejuice's face. If you don't, if you never feel that way about me, I don't know what I'll do. I know you love me, I do know that, but if you don't find me . . . attractive . . . She closed her eyes briefly, then remembered that Beetlejuice had told her once that she was pretty. And if you add pretty to love, then wouldn't you get desire? Oh, and I wore that veil and the sleeveless dress when I disguised myself to bribe you; you were very attracted to me then! She immediately felt better, more confident. She took a chance on waking him by softly caressing his hair. Maybe I should have taken you up on your offer to juice your clothes away. If I'd felt two months ago the way I feel now . . . maybe that whole day would have been different.
Beetlejuice slept peacefully on.
It has to start with kissing, real kissing, not just on the cheek, she decided. If I kiss him, I'll know how he feels about me, and he'll know how I feel about him. And I'll tell him. But I have to take it slow. Poor Beej, what a darling he is. And so innocent and so naive. He's been so sweet all these years, but now I want him to really look at me. To stop being so protective because he thinks I'm too young to have feelings like this. Really, how could I not love him? Doesn't he realize what he is to me? My sweet, darling Beej. Wake up, my darling. Wake up and kiss me. She stopped fondling his hair, afraid not just of disturbing him but of hurting something living in it.
The afternoon was starting to cool off and it was time to think of packing up and leaving.
Tomorrow, at the bird-watching picnic in the Neitherwoods. That's when I'll make the first move. Just be sure, she reminded herself, to take it slow and remember how shy he can get at times. Although that's probably just another manifestation of his basic insecurity. That six-week psych class has turned out to be really useful, she mused. Then she shivered a little as the wind picked up.
Tomorrow, Beej, she swore to herself. Tomorrow, I'll make sure you know how I feel. And I'll find out what you feel for me. I know you love me. Do you know it, Beej? And what kind of love is it? Oh, please, love me. Love me the way I love you.
He shifted very slightly in his sleep, sighed and began breathing deeply again.
Tomorrow, Beej. She smiled at his sleeping form. I love you, Beej. Slowly she stretched over him, intent on at least kissing that entrancing ear. She got nearly within range when he suddenly shifted again, made a small noise, and woke. Quickly, she dropped a tiny kiss on his neck and pulled back. "Good morning, sleepyhead," she said cheerfully.
"Wha – " He blinked a few times, then looked at Lydia, who was now industriously packing up the leftovers. "Was I . . . was I asleep?" He yawned, sat up, and stretched vigorously, joints cracking. "You should've woken me up, babes. Hey, it's gotten late! Lyds, all that time I was asleep – I could've been with you instead." He gave her an unhappy look.
"You were with me, the whole time." She smiled at him. "I had a wonderful time just sitting here, looking at you and thinking. Don't worry about it, really." She reached out a hand to touch his cheek briefly. "And you are so cute when you're asleep."
He made a face at that. "Cute? Yecch!" He floated up and waved a hand and everything was neatly packed in the picnic basket. Then he extended that hand to help her stand. "I am not cute.
"I'm not going to spoil a wonderful day like this arguing with you about how incredibly cute you can be." Lydia led the way toward the parking lot, off the sand, where Doomie would be waiting. "Besides, I would win when I showed anyone this photo," and she whipped her camera out of her tote bag and got a shot of him looking at her in surprise with the picnic basket floating behind him. "There. A memento of a day I will always remember."
Beetlejuice sighed in resignation, then grinned at her. "It was a perfect day, wasn't it, babes?"
She pondered that for a moment, then answered, "Not quite, because tomorrow will be even better. You'll see." She smiled to herself. She knew it would be better.
