Inheritance
by
Owlcroft

"Beej, this letter in today's mail?" She held up a sheet of paper and waved it back and forth. "It's from my grandmother's lawyers."

He looked at her, puzzled.

"Not Grandma Deetz, my other grandmother. The one who died before I met you." She looked again at the letter she held. "You remember she left some money to me in a trust, and when I turn twenty-one, they give it to me?"

"Oh, yeah. That's next week. Have you decided what you want to do special for your birthday?"

"No, but . . ." She took a deep breath and held the letter out to him. "It's almost $50,000!"

He looked his astonishment at her then took the letter and read it carefully. "Wowie," was the first thing he said. The next thing was, "What do you want to do with it?"

Lydia sat down at the small kitchen table and thought for only a moment before saying, "I want to pay my father back. The loan he made us so we'd own this place." She waved a hand to indicate the building comprising Scarabée and their flat upstairs. "We could do that and have a little left over for materials or maybe a short vacation somewhere."

"Dearest," Beetlejuice said slowly, "this's your money and you can do what you want with it, but . . . shouldn't you spend it on yourself? Like, maybe some new shoes or a trip to Paris to see the latest fashions, or something you've always wanted, or wanted to do?"

"It's your money, too. When we were married, all I had became yours, remember?" She smiled at him fondly.

He stayed serious. "But I became yours, so everything is yours."

Lydia reached out and took one of his hands in hers. "You are such a darling, but I became yours, too, so everything just keeps getting passed back and forth between us."

"Yeah, okay, but . . . I think Chuck wanted to give us that loan. I mean, I think he wanted to show us that he . . . you know, sort of approves of us. That he didn't mind that you married me." Beetlejuice looked down at their clasped hands resting on the table. "I think . . . I'm pretty sure he likes me," in a disbelieving tone.

"Of course he does! You know he does. Darling Beej, they both like you. A lot!"

"Well. You know, that brings me to something I've been meaning to mention." Still staring at their hands, he said slowly, "You know that when you . . . um, when you . . . have lived your life in that world, that you'll . . ."

"Die?" Lydia said, smiling.

"No! I mean, yes! But not . . . exactly, sort of." Beetlejuice fidgeted, wrinkling his face until Lydia had to lean across and kiss the end of his nose because he was so incredibly cute. He sighed then, and went on. "You know you'll come here. We checked at City Hall and you'll have a choice and you'll choose the Neitherworld, right?" He suddenly looked at her, a trifle anxious.

She leaned over and kissed him again. "You know I will. So, what did you have to tell me?"

"It's . . . it's about your folks." He was getting more and more fidgety now. "When they . . . you know . . . they might get to make a choice, too. When they . . . have to."

"They will?" Lydia was incredulous. "They might?"

"Uh-huh." He turned silent then, until she moved her chair to sit right next to him and took his hand back in hers.

"Can you explain that to me? It sounds almost too good to be true," she said softly.

He shrugged a little. "I looked into it some more a while ago. Just double-checking, you know. And you remember we found out that when we got married here, you automatically became a resident. So, you get to choose."

"And my parents?" she asked, squeezing his hand.

Beetlejuice nodded. "Maybe. They don't know it yet. I . . . I don't know how to tell them. It took a while for everybody to figure it out, but since they're relatives – yours and mine – and since Deels has her art gallery here, it looks like they could come here. If they want. At least, Deels could. But Chuck? That's not so clear."

Lydia's eyes got a worried look and she bit her lower lip. "Mother could come here, but you're not sure Father could. Is there a 'but' somewhere?"

He nodded. "Maybe. You know there are apartments over 'Art by Deetz' –" he grimaced every time he said that name, "and if they rented one, then they'd both be residents and everything's hanky-panky."

"I think you mean hunky-dory. But there might be some hanky-panky later," she managed a grin for him.

"But, dearest," he finally turned to her, "They might not want to. I mean, they might 'cause you're here, but who knows?" He closed his eyes then, looking mournful. "And I don't think it's . . . right to try to convince them. It should be their choice. And suppose Chuck wants to come here and Deels doesn't? Or the other way around?"

Lydia murmured, "Oh, dear," in a troubled voice.

"I think Chuck would want to because of you. I think, but I'm not sure. And how do you ask somebody that? And Deels?" He sighed and held her hand tighter. "She's got a sister and stuff and maybe she'd rather be with her other relatives, or friends, but then if Chuck is here . . . I don't know, see? And you can't just ask somebody about that. 'Specially if they don't know about it."

"I do understand," she said in a quiet voice. "But, my darling, you know how well Mother fits in here and how comfortable she is. And Father has told me more than once that he actually likes the Neitherworld. I think that's partly because Mother is so busy here, and partly because everyone treats him with so much respect, and even affection."

"The affection's because of you." He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb.

She squeezed his hand gently. "But the respect is because of you." After considering for a few seconds, she said, "I think we should use the money to pay back the loan and then use that as an excuse to talk to Father about all this and see what he says. I do believe Mother would choose the Neitherworld, especially if he did. And you're right – we shouldn't try to convince them, but it's only fair to let them know what to expect."

"They're your folks; you get to decide." Beetlejuice hunched up one shoulder. "I'll help tell them, if you want. Explain, sort of."

They sat for another few minutes, thinking, then Lydia made a decision. "Okay. It's their choice, so we tell them, explain it all as well as we can, and then we leave it up to them. Let them talk about it and make their own decisions. That's only fair, right?"

"Yeah, I guess. Not going to be easy, though. To explain, or for them to decide." He tugged at her hand a little. "Sorry to make problems for you."

"No! It's not a problem! It would be a wonderful thing, to have them here. If that's what they want. My Beej, don't ever think you are a problem for me. You're the best thing that ever happened to me and I am so lucky." She leaned closer and put her arms around his neck. "No matter what my parents decide, I made the right choice. I chose you."

He looked his love at her, taking one of her hands to kiss. "But you still should use some of that money for yourself. Something you always wanted. Okay?"

"I have all I ever wanted right here, right now. And forever." And kissed him.