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“It’s almost Pranksgiving. You must be so excited! What plans have you made, what pranks have you come up with, what schemes do you have?” Lydia perched on the arm of the couch and put her arm across her fiancé’s shoulders. “Who are your principal competitors this year?”
“Well, um, actually . . .” Beetlejuice turned off the TV. ‘Okra’ was boring anyway. “I didn’t . . . enter this year.” He shrugged and examined the TV remote as if it were the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. “But hey! They named me Prankster Emeritus and gave me a plaque!”
Lydia was astonished. “You’re not competing? And you got an award and didn’t tell me?” She got up and stood in front of him, arms akimbo. “Okay. Explain.”
“Aah, it just got too easy after a while, you know. And I figured it was time to give somebody else a chance. So I retired from competition.” Beetlejuice was now engrossed by the back of the remote. “I was going to tell you about the plaque . . . sometime. It’s not that big a deal. It’s sort of chintzy, really, so I just put it away somewhere.”
Lydia frowned at him. “BJ. Is this because Pranksgiving is on my birthday this year? Because if it is, then I want you to -”
“No, hey, babes! Listen!” He finally tossed the remote over the end of the couch and grabbed her hands and looked at them instead. “I thought about it, about entering this year. But then I thought about what I really wanted to do and if it comes down to it, I’d rather be with you, especially on your birthday, especially on your eighteenth birthday, especially since Deels invited me to be there . . . for your birthday dinner.” Beetlejuice grimaced slightly. “Okay, that’s not exactly my idea of a swell time, but you’ll be there and it’s an important day . . . so, that’s where I want to be, too.” He tightened his grip on her hands slightly. “I just don’t . . . I sort of would rather . . . everybody thought it was all the other reasons.”
“You’re embarrassed because you’re doing it for me.” She freed one hand and used it to gently force his chin up so he’d be looking at her.
There was a pause while BJ considered that. “No, I’m not,” he said finally. “’Course I’m not. I always do stuff for you.” He gave a little shrug. “I’d do anything for you.” That earned him a fervent hug. Once he’d reciprocated, he added, “But nobody here knows about us yet, except my folks, and I want to keep it that way. Just ‘til after your birthday. If that’s okay with you?”
She sat on his knee and put both arms around his neck. “To avoid all the fussing and feelings and foofaraw?”
Beetlejuice kissed her. “Mostly. But I like foofaraw. Especially with onions.”
ooooo
Beetlejuice showed up in Lydia’s mirror just before noon that Saturday, yelling ‘Happy birthday!’ until she brought him through. Then he wished her many happy returns in the way she liked best.
After several minutes, she broke away reluctantly. “I’ve got to get going. Burp and . . . I mean Bertha and Prudence are taking me out for lunch because it’s my birthday. BJ, would it be all right with you if I told them about us and asked them to be bridesmaids? There’s no way anyone in the Neitherworld could find out from them and they are my best friends.” She added, seeing his raised eyebrows, “Well, you’re in a separate class now.”
“Sure,” he said, frowning slightly. “I’ve got a lot to do here anyway, starting with shopping for food. Food that you can eat. You go have some girl-talk with Burp and Prune. Have some fun. I’m planning some guy-talk with Chuckie later.”
ooooo
The three schoolmates met in a small downtown café for lunch. After thanking her friends and accepting their birthday wishes, Lydia told them she had news to impart and warned them that it was to remain a secret for a few more months. “I’m engaged,” she said with a smile, “to be married.”
“Ooh, Lydia, tell us all about him!” That was Bertha, grinning broadly. “I didn’t even know you were dating!
Prudence asked, “Who is it? Has he given you a ring yet?” She adjusted her glasses and looked at Lydia inquisitively.
“No, he says he wants me to have just the right thing and it’s taking awhile to get it.” Lydia, still smiling, tried to imagine what her ring would look like. Whatever it was, even a plastic one from a carnival, if it was from Beetlejuice she would cherish it.
“So who is it and what’s he like? Do we know him? Have we met him? When did all this happen?” Bertha was agog from the news and needed to know everything at once.
Lydia thought for a moment about Betty Juice and decided not to go there. “I don’t think you know him but you’ll meet him sometime before the wedding. BJ is very funny, very clever, and very sweet. At least to me. But he has this image that he tries to project, to make everyone believe in. He seems abrasive and oblivious at times, but when you know him better, you see through that. And sometimes he comes across as a kind of . . . of merry prankster or even a malicious prankster, and someone who doesn’t care about anyone else, but . . .”
“Oh, said Prudence, “the kind who seems all gruff and detached, but really has a heart of gold.”
“Pretty much. For instance, he saved the life of one of his friends but he won’t talk about it. If you mention it, he just says everybody’s entitled to one mistake.” Lydia shook her head at that, one corner of her mouth twisted up, then looked again at her friends. “The wedding’s in June and I want you two to be my bridesmaids. Will you?”
“Of course,” answered Prudence. “We’d be glad to!”
Bertha grinned and said, “You bet! We wouldn’t miss it! Lydia, this is just so exciting!”
“I’ll provide your dresses, something simple that you can wear again, maybe in a green which would suit you both. They’ll be samples of the clothing line I’m going to start next fall – Araignée.”
“Now that sounds swanky.” Bertha pushed away her salad and put her chin on her hands. “Tell us more about it. And tell us everything about BJ.”
“Well,” Lydia grinned, “it’s French for spider, but I don’t think many of the customers will know that. And BJ has been extremely helpful. He’s really good at chemistry and he’s come up with some fantastic dyes for the fabrics and the threads. This is another secret.” She looked around the small café. “Some of the threads glow in the dark.”
“That sounds very interesting,” said Prudence. “But I think what we wanted to know about BJ is all the other information; for example, what he looks like and how did you meet and how long have you known him -”
“And is he a good kisser!” Bertha said with a grin.
Lydia smiled discreetly. “Weell . . .”
ooooo
Since he’d been invited to Lydia’s birthday dinner, and felt he had to accept, Beetlejuice had decided he would do the cooking. At least, the Deetzes would have a good dinner for a change and he could make sure there was something he could eat. Delia was easy to convince once BJ had pointed out that she needed to finish her latest project as soon as possible, and Charles and Lydia eagerly urged her to accept his offer.
Shopping in a grocery store was a new experience for Beetlejuice. Gross-ery stores were one thing; this was something completely different, and scary – there were lots of healthy things there. He managed to navigate it successfully, though, and enjoyed frightening a child that had whined and screamed for five minutes straight. “What, you’ve never seen a lung-tosser before?” he told it as he left the store.
After unloading the food items in the Deetz kitchen, Beetlejuice walked into his prospective father-in-law’s den with a bottle in one hand. “Hey, Chuck. You like sherry?” He held up the brown bottle. “Since I’m cooking tonight, we’re going to do this right.”
Charles Deetz eyed his daughter’s fiancé with interest. “It’s been years since I had sherry. Maybe too many years because I did used to like it a lot.”
“If you’d rather have madeira, I can have some here as easy as snapping my fingers,” said BJ lightly. “But I find that too heavy, especially before a meal with a red wine. You do have something that’s good with steak, right?” He was being so polite and charming and polished that he wanted to retch, but it seemed to be working on the guy he was trying to cozy up to.
The sherry was put in the fridge to chill and Beetlejuice did all the food prep quickly, not even needing to use much juice. Then he went back to Charles’ den with a couple of glasses of the fortified wine and steeled himself to be friendly, affable, even . . . nice. It did help that he could gag a little in the hallway first.
“Here you go, Chuck.” BJ took a quick swig from his own glass and leaned against the wall next to a window. “You know,” he said, holding his glass up to the light, “you have a nice place here. Lots of room to stroll around outside and look at the trees. Maybe you ought to try that once in a while instead of staying inside all the time. Sunlight, fresh air, what’s not to like?” He managed to conceal most of his queasiness by turning to face the window.
Charles sniffed the golden-brown liquid then tasted it. “This is really good!” he exclaimed. “Thanks, BJ, for thinking of it.” He sampled it again. “But outdoors? I don’t know about that. There are creatures out there and birds that swoop down at you, and there might even be snakes. I don’t know. I don’t think -”
“Are you kidding? A big tough guy like you? No critter would dare come near you. And birds? Believe me, I know what you’re talking about. But you? You got nothing to worry about. Hey, let me freshen that up a little.” Beetlejuice topped up Charles’ glass without him noticing that the bottle had appeared from nowhere. “A macho guy like you has nothing to fear out there, I’m telling you.”
Charles nodded his thanks for the freshening-up and drank a hefty portion. He realized that he’d missed it since Delia very much preferred wine. “Still,” he said, “it makes me a little . . . uneasy out there -”
“Ah, c’mon! You, uneasy?” Beetlejuice spoke eloquently for some time about pioneers and backwoodsmen and manly men who were impervious to anything that nature had to offer. He made flattering comparisons between them and the sherry-drinker opposite him. He made much of the fact that Charles was big and strong and brave, being as convincing as only the best con man can be.
“If you join that country club you told me about, we can play golf next spring. I’m a fairly decent scratch golfer, but I bet you can show me some tricks, right, Chuck? And they must have card games there for members. You could set up a regular night with some buddies and play poker or -”
“Canasta!” Charles was starting to be enthusiastic, and just a tad tipsy, especially after another freshening-up. “I love canasta and there must be some other guys at that club who’d play!”
“You bet there are! You go join up tomorrow and check it out. I’ll work on my putting game this winter and we’ll take them all on as a team next spring.” Beetlejuice could see the finish line now and put everything he had into his next pitch. “You know what else, if you don’t mind me making a little suggestion. Think about buying Deels a fancy new outdoor grill for Christmas. You can cook when the weather’s good and get some decent meals for a change.”
Charles was so impressed and moved that he shook BJ’s hand.
ooooo
Dinner was delicious. Only Lydia noticed that Beetlejuice’s steak was raw inside and that he zapped the green peas off his plate while everyone else was intent on their food. When complimented, he would only reply with diffidence, “Cooking’s just chemistry.”
Delia raved about the mashed potatoes as she took a second helping. “I must have the recipe. Please, tell me what’s in here.”
Beetlejuice looked at his plate modestly. “It’s the blue cheese and sour cream. Moldy cheese and cow secretions that have gone bad make everything taste better.”
Fortunately, that was treated as a joke and only Lydia knew he was being serious for once. She was also touched by his table manners and general air of politeness. He was trying so very hard for her sake and, if she could have, she would have loved him more than ever.
After the bakery cake, with celebratory glasses of champagne, BJ insisted on doing the clean-up and Lydia volunteered to help. Delia recognized that they wanted a few moments alone and tugged Charles, carrying the champagne bottle, into the living room.
“You are such a darling,” Lydia said, carrying the dessert plates into the kitchen. “And I know what a strain this is for you, Beej.” She put the plates on the counter and her arms around Beetlejuice. “Thank you. I love you so much.”
He gave her a self-deprecating glance and waved his hand around, juicing everything clean and put away. “We’re almost to the fun part, Lyds. Not that I mean your folks aren’t fun . . . well, yeah, I do mean your folks aren’t fun. But I’d rather be here with you than anywhere else without you.” After that embarrassing display of emotion, he gave her a kiss and said, “Let’s go have a little more champagne and you can open presents. And after that maybe it’ll be fun!”
ooooo
Naturally, the gift from Delia was a fluffy pink sweater. “It’s so soft,” said Lydia. “And I didn’t have one in this color.” Behind her, she heard a muffled snort from Beetlejuice. “Thank you, Mother,” she said emphatically.
The other gift was from her father, a silver bracelet that matched the chain with a crystal heart she always wore. Charles, she thanked with real gratitude and love.
Lydia then turned to Beetlejuice, who hesitated before saying apologetically, “I’ve got one for you, but it’s sort of . . . um, personal.”
Delia immediately had the notion that it was sexy nightwear and exclaimed, “Oh, of course you have to give her your gift privately. We didn’t expect anything else!”
Lydia did not think that was the reason, but agreed cheerfully to the delay. “That’s fine, BJ. It’s no problem at all. Especially if you pour me a little more champagne.”
Beetlejuice did so and then said, “Hey, we have to sing to you, Lyds!”
She nearly choked on champagne in her haste to head him off. “Oh, no. That’s really not necessary. In fact -”
“Oh, c’mon. We have to sing to you on your birthday.” And he moved to a radio that somehow had been overlooked for several years.
“No, that’s okay, honest. I’d really rather -”
He pushed a button and immediately The Beatles’ ‘Birthday’ rang out. Beetlejuice grabbed Lydia’s hand and pulled her into a dance and sang along to it. “They say it’s your birthday!” Lydia immediately started singing with him and they danced together joyously.
Delia laughed in delight and pulled her husband up to join her. “Come on, Charles. It’s been too long since we danced like that.”
The magic radio ran through more several Beatles classics, but when the first sounds of ‘Any Time at All’ came on, Lydia gave BJ an intimate smile. “They’re playing our song.”
They danced to it at half speed, holding each other close. Beetlejuice hummed along and sang it to her softly when the second verse began. “If the sun has faded away, I'll try to make it shine. There is nothing I won't do . . . Call me tonight and I'll come to you . . . Any time at all, all you gotta do is call and I'll be there.” They ended the song in an embrace and kissed as silence fell.
Charles watched his daughter smiling and touching her fiancé’s face and now clinging to him while kissing tenderly, and admitted to himself that she was truly happy. Maybe this guy was something special, or maybe that was all the wine affecting him. He would swear their feet weren’t actually touching the floor. But he suddenly decided that he liked BJ. Since his pumpkin clearly loved him and BJ adored her, Charles decided, somewhat defiantly, that yes, he did like the guy. And he would join the country club. And he would buy Delia an outdoor grill.
ooooo
Once her parents had pleaded tiredness and gone upstairs, Lydia pulled Beetlejuice down to sit beside her on the couch. “Beej, when I said Burp and Prune -” she stopped and gave herself a smack on the forehead. “You’re a bad influence on me, you know.” She waited until he stopped laughing to go on. “This morning, when I said they were my best friends . . . I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. And then when I thought about it, I realized you’re still my best friend. I just meant that you were so much more to me now.”
BJ took her left hand and kissed it gently. “I know that. I was just a little surprised, is all.” He sighed then, and leaned back against the couch cushion. “I’m tired.”
“Cooking really takes it out of you, huh? Or was it the dancing?” Lydia rested her head on his shoulder, not letting go of his hand. “I remember when you were young and could dance all night.” She looked up at him out of the corner of her eye to catch his reaction to that. It wasn’t what she expected.
He tilted his head back and closed his eyes. “Cooking’s easy, and dancing’s fun. But I shopped, in a store here. Then I buttered Chuckie up and got him relaxed. Then I complimented Deels on her latest work, and usually I like being nauseous but not this time. Then I cooked. Then I made small talk while being threatened by a green vegetable – I will never give peas a chance. Then I watched you open your present from Deels. It’s been a hard day’s night, babes.” He leaned his head against hers. “The Beatles, you know I had to love ‘em!”
“All that work and all that stress. And you did it for me,” Lydia murmured and kissed his ear. When he turned his head, she kissed other parts of his face, too. Then she pulled back a bit and said, “Did you say something about a present?”
He grinned at her. “Yeah, this seems like a good time.” He started to reach into his jacket pocket, then paused to say, “Close your eyes for a minute, okay?” When she did, he pulled out a small box, took a ring from it and slid it onto her left hand ring finger. Nervously, he told her, “Open ‘em up.”
When she did, she gasped, holding up her hand to stare at the ring he’d given her. It was a large oval cabochon ruby in an ornate white gold setting and it fit her finger perfectly. “Beej.”
He tilted his head to get a better look at her face. “Sooo, it’s . . . okay?”
Lydia threw her arms around his neck and hugged him fiercely, then released him to stare at her ring again. “It’s perfect! I love it! It’s gorgeous and perfect . . . and I love it!” Once again she hugged him to her. “Oh, Beej!”
“Um, there’s an inscription inside and if you look right at the center of the stone, deep down, you might see something.” He was feeling a little more confident that she did indeed like her ring, but there was still that deeply-ingrained doubt of his ability to handle the mushy stuff.
Lydia gazed deep into the ruby and was surprised to see a minute black spot, which she could barely make out to be a spider. Then, when she shifted her hand, it became a beetle. Her mouth dropped open and she could only stare at Beetlejuice for a moment. “Did you make this?” she whispered.
He nodded self-consciously. “It took a while. Wanted it to be just right. But the stone’s real!” he assured her. “That’s what took so long, making sure it turned out a real ruby.”
After she removed the ring to see the inscription, she bit her lip and blinked rapidly several times then read it aloud. “‘BJ Loves L Forever’. Love . . . that’s the word the little hearts stand for, isn’t it, my darling Beej.”
He bobbed his head once, uncomfortable, and cleared his throat. “Yeah, when people . . . hearts . . . you know . . . they mean . . . um, yeah.”
She replaced her ring and cuddled up against him, telling him she loved him over and over again, resting a hand over his heart. He held her close and rubbed his cheek on the top of her head until she started suddenly and pulled back.
“Oh, but now it’s your turn.” She pulled a small flat box out of the pocket of her tunic. “You remember that we started celebrating your birthday with mine last year. Happy birthday, Beej,” and handed him the box.
Beetlejuice held off taking it for a moment, clearly nonplussed, then removed his arm from her shoulders to open it. He froze at once, staring at the ring inside.
They sat in silence for several seconds before he even moved to take the ring out. It was a simple circle of white gold, with a channel of amethysts that glinted even in that dim light.
“If you don’t want to wear a ring, that’s okay,” said Lydia softly. “You could put it on a chain around your neck. Or just keep it.” She gave him a chance to speak, but he only held the ring and looked at it without blinking. “St. Valentine wore an amethyst, so they’re the gemstones for faithful couples.” She paused once more, then told him, “There’s an inscription.”
Finally, Beetlejuice blinked. And read the inscription – ‘Together Always, Always My Love. Lyds’. And put the ring on. And opened his mouth to speak, but only a tiny strange sound came out, more like a soft gulp than anything else. Then he turned to her and quickly pulled her into his arms, nestling his face against her neck. He breathed heavily for several moments, then, “Of course, I’ll wear it,” he muttered. “I want everyone . . . everyone to know . . . that I belong to you.” He fell silent again, but kissed her neck, then nuzzled it, then burrowed his face in her hair.
Lydia felt that her neck was much damper than the kiss and the nuzzling accounted for. She knew if she asked he would say his nose was running and he’d wiped it on her neck. The thought made her smile a bit. But she didn’t need to ask.
It was midnight now, and the shared birthday was over. But the love story was just getting started.