Child Care
by
Owlcroft

Every summer weekend, Lydia and Beetlejuice would head for the neighborhood park as soon as dinner was over. There, she'd watch, and sometimes chat with the parents, as he played with the children. They played tag and Slimon Says and other games; he set off small fireworks and made tiny dragons soar through the air dropping delicate colorful toys to eager hands reaching for them. The thunder-and-lightning bugs he created were always fun. Once a small puffy bug was caught, it would rumble then flash a wee light and disappear in a cloud of confetti, leaving small candies behind.

Tonight, a noisy group of children were snatching at the flitting bugs and the swells of high-pitched laughter could be heard for blocks. But Lydia could pick out one cascading shriek of hilarity from the others without effort. He was enjoying himself immensely, as were the children. He looked forward to these nights so much, and she loved to accompany him – to see the smiles of the kids, of course, but more important to her – to see him beam and laugh and shyly accept thankful hugs as darkness fell.

That night, though, a zombie father who'd accompanied his small daughter seemed to be in a bad mood and kept drawing Lydia's attention by his irritated mutters. His daughter, off-balance as she reached for a bug, tripped and nearly fell and he called her over to him loudly. Suddenly, his angry voice rang out, followed by a sharp slap.

Lydia heard the slap but realized Beetlejuice must have seen it as he vanished to reappear between the father and daughter, one hand on the child's head protectively and the other pointing in threat at the adult. The father froze as Lydia ran to put her arms around the sobbing child.

"If you ever touch her again –" Beetlejuice growled, trembling in anger and glowing as if about to burst into flame.

Lydia interrupted. "Beej, no! If he ever touches her?"

The growl grew in volume and in menace, the ghost never taking his eyes off the petrified zombie. "If you ever touch her again in anger, I will know, and I will find you." He turned then and gathered the child into his arms and held her carefully. "Where do you live, Zora? Can you tell me that? We'll take you home."

The zombie watched as the ghost and human carried his daughter away, then buried his face in his hands, slumped in guilt and anguish.

ooooo

Later, back in the parlor of their flat, "Shouldn't've done it, I suppose. I just reacted." Beetlejuice sighed, then spread his hands wide. "But what was I supposed to do? What should I have done? I can't just let somebody hit a kid, even – maybe especially – their own kid! What was I supposed to do?"

She extended her arms for a hug and held him close. "I'm not sure. You're right, we had to do something. Maybe a threat wasn't the best thing, but Beej, I am proud of you. For protecting that little girl. For doing something." They stood together for a moment, then she spoke again. "At least her mother said she'd take care of things. I thought she was really surprised, but she certainly sounded like she'd make sure it never happened again."

He just shrugged and shook his head.

Lydia tilted her head back slightly to look up at him. "When a child is hurt, everybody has to be responsible, don't they? But maybe we should have just called the police?"

Beetlejuice snorted at that. "Dearest, really? We were fresh out of doughnuts."

"You're right," she said with a wry smile. "Neitherworld police are kind of . . . useless, aren't they? I still think you did the right thing, though. You got between the two of them and made sure he wasn't going to hit her again. And talking with Zora's mother made me feel a lot better. I do believe she'll handle it. But we should make sure they both come out to the park tomorrow night. You know, just check on them." Lydia thought some more. "I think it's everyone's responsibility to make sure children are safe."

He nodded. A silence fell, broken a few minutes later. "I've given up on having our own," he said quietly. "That last doctor was so positive –"

"No, don't!" she protested, looking at him in dismay. "There's still a chance. I believe that. And we can always adopt, either here or a human baby. My darling, please, don't give up yet," she smiled at him hopefully, but he turned his face away a fraction. "All right, maybe we should be thinking about what we want to do if the doctors are right. And if we do adopt, how about one each? Maybe a ghost and a human?" She could feel his chest rise and then fall in a deep sigh.

"My very dearest, whatever you want. I just . . . I know you don't blame me, but it is my fault."

All she said was, "Beej," but her expression said volumes.

Finally, he did look at her, with a face filled with sorrow and guilt. "A few years ago, I would probably offer to let you go. So you could have kids of your own." When she shook him gently, he hurried to add, "But I won't now. I know what you feel for me and I believe in it. I believe in you. That you really do need me, or think you do."

He paused as she punched him in the shoulder in mock rage. "Ow," he said plaintively. "You big bully." Then snuggled her closer. "Sooo . . . I guess you're stuck with me." He took a breath, then shook his head in unhappy frustration. "But it still hurts. That I let you down. That I can't give you what you want . . . what we both want so much. It is my fault and I really don't think I'm going to get over that."

Lydia thought carefully what she should say. They'd discussed this before and he always ended up so despairing, so laden with remorse. "My own sweet darling. You know all the things I've said before, and I know they don't really help. But you can't blame yourself for something that's not your fault."

"But it is my fault. It's because of what I am –"

She stopped him with a palm over his mouth and then a kiss. "You can't help being what you are any more than I can help what I am and I wouldn't want you to even try. If we never have children, that's fine with me. You are what I need and what I want; you are all that I need and if I somehow lost you it would destroy me." He started to protest, but she went right on. "If I'd been given a choice between you and someone else that I could have kids with, it would be you every time. Darling Beej, you mean so much more to me than some hypothetical family – I can't even tell you how much more. Words can't say enough to describe how you fill my heart and my life and how I love you so completely."

She watched his eyes, hoping he would accept what she was trying to express. He was looking at her intently, but he had to understand, to believe her. "Kids would be wonderful, they would, and I would love to have your children, I want so much to have your children. But you are necessary to me. I don't even want to think about what I would be without you. And I love you for who you are, so don't ever, ever say you wish you were someone or something else." She pressed her hand against his heart and leaned her head against his shoulder. "My own dear sweetheart, my Beej, my one true love."

After several seconds, he snugged his head against hers and whispered, "Thank you."

ooooo

The next evening in the park, they were met by a smiling Zora, tugging both her parents over to the ghost and his wife. "Can you do more bugs tonight?" she asked hopefully. "I told my daddy about the little dragons, too."

"You did, huh?" said Beetlejuice, casting a suspicious eye at 'daddy'.

"Uh-huh. And the troll b'loons and the little shiny things and the games." She took Beetlejuice's hand and tugged him toward the playground. "And he said he was sorry and he'd never do it again, and I told him it was okay and he kissed me. And I told him about the teeter totter and how to play slopscotch . . ." She prattled merrily away as they joined the throng of waiting children.

Zora's mother looked at Lydia. "He is sorry. And he will never do it again." She looked at her husband, who nodded, abashed. "Did we thank you last night? For what you did?"

Lydia smiled at the two of them. "I'm not sure. But there's no need. You'd do the same thing, wouldn't you? For a child of ours." And she looked wistfully at the joyous crowd – at Beetlejuice laughing, at Beetlejuice hiding his heartache.