Interwoven
by
Owlcroft
Lydia was in her office working on a custom design order for one of their best patrons. She'd been experimenting with woven fabrics and come up with an idea that really used the texture and pattern to great effect and would be extremely flattering to the skeletal frame of the customer. But it had taken her more than two hours to be completely satisfied with the design, the materials, and the sizing. She slapped her portfolio closed, rose and stretched, then went to the closed office door to open it. It was only a step from her office to the kitchen, where she confidently expected to find her husband – possibly working on a crossword, maybe starting to prepare lunch. But he wasn't there; she found only a crumpled piece of paper on the table. "You fill my arms, my mind, my heart –" she read, then looked around for Beetlejuice.
"Beej?" she called. Could he be upstairs in the lab? Before she could move, the back door opened and there he was, holding a bouquet of viper's bugloss and sneezewort.
He smiled at her shyly. "I missed you so much I needed to do something for you." He extended the flowers to her. "Here."
She went to him and took the flowers, sniffed them, admired them, then set them aside. "They're gorgeous, my Beej, but you're what I need. And I'm sorry you missed me." She put her arms around his neck and kissed him. "You could just come into the office and say something, you know. I'd take a break just to spend some time with you."
He shook his head. "You were so busy. But I peeked in on you every once in a while, just to see you, just to look at you and . . . sort of be with you. I don't know. Sometimes I just need to look at you, make sure you're still there and . . . and, and to . . . satisfy something in me that needs you right then."
"I know what you mean," Lydia nestled against him. "Do you know that sometimes I go up to the lab and crack the door just open to look at you? To make sure you're there and just to think my love at you. Did you know that, sweetheart?"
He tilted his head slightly. "You really do that?"
"Mm-hm. Sometimes at night, I'll wake up – not completely, but I'll wake up just enough to hear you snore and touch your hand. You don't know that I do that, but I do." She patted his chest gently. "But next time, just come into the office. Talk to me, sit there with me. There are times when I wish you weren't so busy with your chemicals that you could talk about designs with me."
"Really? But you're concentrating so hard and I'd just be a distraction. Wouldn't I?"
Lydia chuckled at that. "Maybe a distraction is just what I need sometimes. But it would be so nice just to have you sit there with me while I work. I do miss you, too, you know."
He looked at her in doubting wonder. "But I'm not –"
"You are! You are to me everything that I am to you. And what that is . . . is everything." She looked at him, half-despairing, half-resigned. "After three years, you still don't believe me. Don't understand how much I need you. You are my everything. Without you, there's no reason for me to exist."
Beetlejuice shook his head, holding her close. "Nuh-uh."
"It's true. My one true love." She kissed him again.
A silence fell, broken by a sigh from Lydia. "You gave me – give me – so much. What can I give you that can match that? You gave me myself, my sweet darling. And you gave me you, which is so much more. How can you still feel that you're in my debt when all I offer you is my whole heart, all of what you've already given me?"
"It's not . . . you're not . . . it's not the same. You are so beautiful. On the outside, too. If I'd never met you –"
"Don't even say that!" She looked at him seriously.
"If I hadn't, you'd have figured it out. Your talent and your intelligence would have pulled you through. You never needed me like I needed you." He closed his arms around her a little tighter.
Lydia sighed. "If it takes me a hundred years, I will convince you. You . . . are . . . what . . . I . . . need. You are my world, my life. You write poems to me and bring me flowers to show your feelings. I can't write poetry and you don't want flowers. Do you?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "If you do, I will certainly start giving you flowers."
"Pfff," he said, then thought for a moment. "You know it's not the same. I mean, look at me! I'm just . . . a retired scammer, a ghost with no talents except for pranking people. And you – you have all this potential you're just starting to tap into, you're so talented and beautiful and kind and there is no way I could possibly –"
She put a hand over his mouth. "Don't you dare say it! I'm the one who doesn't deserve –"
He laid a hand over her mouth, then they both chuckled and removed their hands.
"But it's true, heart's treasure," Beetlejuice said then, softly.
"If there's anything true in this world – or any world there is – it's that I don't deserve you." Lydia raised her hand again when he started to speak, then lowered it when he quietened. "You are smart and funny and generous, and loving and beautiful, and mine."
He kissed her forehead. "Yes, please. Forever." Then he couldn't help himself and added, "But you –"
"Love you more than anything, more anyone could love anyone else, love you forever," and put an end to the discussion with a kiss that lasted forever.