Chapter Text
Ch 1: Bold Departure From The Source Material
Lydia was packing the last of her things away. She had met a guy she really liked in her first semester at college, and had decided to marry him and move halfway across the country. Unlike most teenage dropouts she actually had four parents telling her it was a bad idea this time.
Her father’s frayed nerves had come back in full force and he was twitching constantly. Delia was angrily working at her pottery wheel and then repeatedly smashing whatever she created. Adam had written up an itemized list as to why she shouldn’t go, complete with an index.
Meanwhile Barbra was desperately trying to be supportive, as she had similarly left her family very young to marry Adam, but unfortunately she really hated the guy and didn’t want Lydia latching onto someone who represented everything they had tried to protect her from.
It didn’t matter. Lonnie was going to take odd jobs for a year with her and then they would open up her photography studio. She loved him, and she was tired of her domestic little home that had coddled her for six years. Sure it was way better having the Maitlands to raise her better than anyone else had, but she felt it was time to move on, she was nineteen now for fuck’s sake.
So she put the last of her clothes in her suitcase and finally grabbed her three favorite pictures to take with her. One frame was of her mother holding her as a baby, the second was a picture of the Maitlands a few weeks before they died.
The other was of her father, Delia, and the Maitlands, who were wearing extra clothes to show up better on camera, and Lydia in the center. Above them was a banner that read “Happy 18th Lydia!” While the birthday cake’s candles burned merrily on the table.
“You need any help?”
Barbra asked quietly from the doorway. She was twirling a lock of hair, almost pulling it out, and Lydia pitied her.
“No, I’m ok. I think that’s the last of it actually.”
She sat on her bed and surveyed the empty room. The walls were still purple and covered in flowers, but her vanity was empty, and the bed had been made up to look clean and untouched. Barbra floated in somberly and sat beside her.
“I want you to know I’m not mad at you and I don’t resent you.”
“What?”
Lydia turned to Barbra, trying to figure out her angle.
“I don’t hold it against you at all. I did the same thing you know, and I was always worried my parents hated me for it. We rarely spoke after that.”
“Why? They didn’t like Adam?”
“No, once they met him for more than a few minutes they loved him. They just seemed reluctant to take me back, like I had broken some secret rule that leaving meant you can never come home.”
She turned to Lydia, her hands gently holding the sides of her face.
“We’ll always want you to come back Lydia. Even if you bring Lonnie with you. I’m sure we’d warm up to him eventually, just like we did with your folks. And I’ll always want to hear from you, so you should call or send a letter whenever you can.”
Barbra’s eyes were watering though the tears couldn’t fall, where Lydia was already crying intensely with little hiccups. She nodded and leaned in to hug her surrogate mother, her face buried in the almost-not-there sensation of Barbra’s shoulder. They sat for at least five minutes, just holding each other until Lydia leaned back and Barbra’s hands released her.
“Ok, I love you. I’ve got to say goodbye to the others but I want you to see me off, ok? For good luck.”
Barbra nodded enthusiastically through her tearful eyes as Lydia brought her bags to the bottom of the stairs. She listened for her father’s rocker and his foot tapping the floor as she walked up to his office. She cleared her throat and made her footsteps a little louder, so as not to startle him by immediately speaking. He jumped anyway, biting down on the fingernail he had been chewing off.
“Hi daddy.”
“Hey sweetheart. You scared me there. You’d think living in a haunted house would get me used to that by now but here we are! Here we are…”
He muttered the last part to himself, a habit of repeating the last phrase had become common as his anxiety began to spike. Lydia moved into the room, telegraphing her movements as she sat in the spare chair.
“So, it’s official now. I’m all packed up. I’m going to leave in less than an hour. I’d like you to come see me off, I don’t want to leave on bad terms.”
They’d had about a dozen fights in the two weeks leading up to today, many had devolved into shouting matches reminiscent of the early days when Lydia was upset about his remarriage. He managed a watery grimace.
“You’re really leaving me then? Hey, I know I can’t stop you no matter how much I’d like to. And you know how I feel about the guy-“ Lydia took a breath and he held up a hand to stop her.
“-We’ve fought it out more than rival construction companies at this point dear, no sense beating a dead horse. Now I know you don’t want anything from us and I’m not going to exactly hand over a dowry or anything. But if you promise not to let Lonnie see a cent of it I can give you the numbers for an account your mother and I started for you when you were born.”
Lydia felt a spark of rage that he would use the money as a bargaining tool, but what was one lie? Lonnie was responsible enough, he could get out of any debt in a month, tops. It would be fine.
“Ok. That’s reasonable. I appreciate that, dad.”
He fished for a file in his desk and handed it over, inside were all the receipts, neatly clipped together and organized by date.
“There you are sweetheart. I’ll be out to see you before you go, I think I need a minute alone first.”
“Of course. Thanks again dad.”
She gave him a small kiss on the forehead, knowing he was going to cry for a bit and wishing that they didn’t have to always be so manipulative with each other.
As she closed the door she heard his breath rattling and went to find Delia before she could change her mind about saying goodbye to her. Her stepmother was in her studio, where she had been for the last three days, almost like she was on strike.
She was halfway through finishing a vase that was nearly a foot high, red clay smeared all over her and broken pottery smashed in a pile against one wall. Lydia knocked on the doorframe which startled Delia into moving her arm wrong, causing the clay to collapse into a floppy pile. Delia growled up at her.
“That took me almost two hours! I was going to record the smash it made to remind me of how you broke our family apart.”
Her voice seeped with venom that Lydia knew was only half-sincere. Her stepmother had never really gotten along with her, but she had been there for late night art projects to help Lydia complete collages or a painting for class. They’d developed more of a roommate relationship than anything else, with spaces separate and roles clear.
“Nice to see you too. Just letting you know I’m headed out in an hour. I’m asking everyone to see me off, it’s not mandatory.”
Delia wiped her hands on her already dirty apron, as though she was trying to physically brush off her feelings.
“We’ll if I’m free I may wander upstairs. Don’t expect any gifts or well-wishes from me though. That deadbeat is only going to get you killed or worse, pregnant.”
She slammed the clay back down and began aggressively throwing the pot again.
“I wouldn’t expect more than getting flipped the bird from you, Delia. But dad is going to need you when I’m gone, the Maitlands can only do so much. He’s your goddamn husband, at least pretend to care about his feelings, if not for me than for him.”
Delia faltered, her hands hovering away from the clay before resuming their work more gently.
“I can take care of him very well on my own thank you, and I don’t take advice from home wreckers.”
“That’s not quite the context that’s normally used in.”
“Thank you for telling me. I’ll be sure it file it away with all the other stellar decisions you’ve made today.”
“You know what, I know you’re bitter and hurt because you’re going to miss me, but I want you to know that it’s your approval that I value the least in this house. You’ve known that I’ve always resented you for replacing my mom, but then I had the Maitlands and it didn’t matter because you were just some lady who lived in our house.
But as I’ve grown up I’ve come to see that you’re just as bitter as I am, and I forgive you for never knowing how to be a decent mother.”
Lydia’s voice softened by the end, her tears held at bay by Delia’s icy silence. As she turned to leave she called after her.
“I’m sorry I never knew how to talk to you. We could have connected more, and I always chose the snarkiest remark I could because if I let you in that would mean I cared, and would have to acknowledge that I was never enough for you or your father.” Lydia turned back, seeing Delia crying over the pottery wheel. It was just like her to make this all about herself in the apology, trying to justify nearly a decade of insults and sarcasm. Delia looked up and met her eyes.
“I don’t blame you for wanting to leave. Honestly, it’s normal, and you’re probably going to have an amazing time and wish you had left sooner. Even though I barely know you, I’m glad I got to see you grow into someone so confident and brave.”
She ended her speech by turning back to the clay and working feverishly. Lydia’s eyes stung and she left without saying anything else, knowing that was the sincerest thing Delia had ever said to her.
She found Adam in the attic, his model pushed to one side of the room to make space for his chalkboard which had all of the reasons she shouldn’t leave written on it.
He was muttering to himself as he paced around the room and would stop at random intervals to dash across the space and scribble one more thing in the margins before resuming the walk.
“Adam.”
He whirled around, the chalk dust floating off of him.
“Lydia! Thank god, I’ve thought of a few more, if you’ll just look here-“ Lydia placed her hands over his placatingly.
“Adam please. No more.”
“But the, there’s so many. You shouldn’t, you can’t…”
He sounded so wounded and petulant, the fight draining out of him as he dropped his chalk and grabbed her hands. His protests died and she saw the hurt washing over him.
“It’s not your fault, you know that.”
“I know. It’s just, I thought if there was enough evidence I could convince you to stay. You know?”
He sniffed and looked away, adjusting his glasses. Barbra came up the stairs to join them, wrapping her hands around Adam’s shoulders.
He leaned his head against hers and they all just stood there for a moment, trying to savor being together one more time.
“Well, I guess we’re going to have to get used to just haunting Charles and Delia.”
Adam tried to joke but it came out broken and wheezing. Barbra gave a small groan and buried her face in his neck while Lydia cried silently.
“God I wish I could cry, some things they don’t tell you you’ll miss when you’re a ghost.” Barbra said from Adam’s shoulder and he nodded jerkily, not trusting his voice.
“I’m gonna miss you both so much, you know that right? I’m gonna send you a letter every week and call once a month. You’ll get sick of hearing from me, it’s gonna be the most mundane shit ever written.”
Barbra and Adam embraced her and she felt their cold bodies against her arms.
“We could never get sick of you Lydia!”
Barbra said vehemently.
“You’re talking to people whose idea of a vacation was to stay home for two weeks in our own house to work on wallpaper and tiles. The mundane is our specialty.”
Adam leaned back and smiled at her, placing one hand on her shoulder. Barbra leaned back too, slotting against his side like she was made to be there.
“Ok, can I give you my big speech now then? It’s not one I wanted to give but I have it outlined.”
He kept swiping at his eyes under his glasses, the tears never falling. Lydia nodded and he did a little throat clearing noise and took an unnecessary breath.
“Ok, I know this sounds stupid but could you kneel please?”
Lydia giggled and swiped at both her eyes before getting to one knee. He stood in front of her, trying to assume a serious face while Barbra laughed next to him.
“Barbra please, I’m only going to say this one time, dear.”
“Right, I know. Let me get over here.” She stepped behind Lydia and handed Adam a ruler from his workbench.
“Thank you Barbra. Anyway, Lydia-“ he stopped abruptly and looked down at her “-What’s your middle name again?”
“Joyce, after my mom.”
“Lydia Joyce Deetz. Six years ago your family invaded our home shortly after our untimely deaths, and we tried to scare you all away.
However, in the time that followed we grew to love you as much as our own daughter and cherish you as the most creative, lovely, and unshakable woman we’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. You stuck around through demonic torment and that business with The Bug.”
This was what they called Beetlejuice, in order to avoid summoning him by accident.
“Though the darkest days you’ve brought us the greatest joy imaginable, allowing us to be your parents.”
His voice broke at the end and he held a hand to stop them from coming to him.
“Let me finish or I’ll never remember all of it, please. It is with this great honor in mind that I have only one regret, which is not meeting you when you were very little, so we could have played stupid games like knights and dragons and such.
We would have been so good at it too, I’d have let you ruin my models all you wanted and you’d come up with some heart-wrenching story even when you were barely speaking, I’m sure of it.”
Barbra had one hand over her mouth and the other on Lydia’s shoulder. Adam’s hand was shaking a little and Lydia had run out of tears several minutes ago, so she just smiled at them with her red eyes.
“I promise there’s a point to all of this. As a kid the one game my father played with me was knights, and I’d like to share that with you today because I was too much of a coward to do it sooner. If you’ll allow me, Lady Lydia, I’d love to bestow upon you a title.”
Barbra was sobbing behind her hand and Lydia nodded, bowing her head as Adam raised the ruler like a sword.
“I dub thee, Lydia the Lightsome. May you shine your light across many people and stay carefree in your heart as you journey.”
He and Barbra helped her stand up and she just held them, dry sobs wracking her frame. They might have stood there forever if there hadn’t been the shattering of pottery from the basement and Charles’s surprised shout at the sudden sound, which startled them all back into the present. Reluctantly they leaned back from each other and Barbra began leading them down to the kitchen.
“Come on! I want to make you one last meal before you go.”
Lydia and Adam followed after, all three of them walking slowly to prolong each other’s company.
“So, what’s your title, Adam?”
Adam chuckled and adjusted his glasses.
“My father dubbed me Adam the Accomplished. The alliteration was more important to him than picking a word that made sense for an eight year old but hey, maybe I lived up to it.”
Lydia bumped his shoulder with hers as they walked down the stairs.
“I’d say you’re pretty accomplished! How did you find a word like lightsome anyway?”
“I spent days with dictionaries and thesauruses about a year or two after you arrived, the time to Knight you just never seemed to come up. I would have regretted not sharing it with you before you left. Now you’ll always have that.”
He was doing the crying-not-crying thing ghosts did while he readjusted his glasses repeatedly. In the kitchen Lydia moved to help before Adam and Barbra ushered her to sit while they made food for her.
She didn’t fight them. While they didn’t have to eat anymore they had enjoyed cooking very much and still experienced taste and smell. They wanted to do something for her while they still could.
“Did Adam ever give you a title Barbra?” Barbra laughed as she whisked eggs.
“As a matter of fact, I definitely recall my wonderful husband giving me a title, although he was my boyfriend at the time.”
“She’s Barbra the Beautiful!”
Adam called over his shoulder while he mashed potatoes.
“Aww, that’s so cute!”
Lydia smiled at the Maitlands while they cooked, and after about ten minutes Charles wandered into the kitchen as well. He was waved off for his honestly poor culinary skills and he sat next to Lydia at the table, talking about where the best places to get real estate were in the Midwest. Lydia knew it was his way of saying he cared but she tuned out his mumbling drone. She and Lonnie would definitely be living in a van for the first year at least.
Twenty minutes later Delia walked in, outfit changed into a very over-the-top black dress with beads and sequins all over it. She sat at the table without volunteering to help, knowing that the Maitlands ruled the kitchen when they were in it.
Within the hour the table was set with an assortment of dinner and breakfast foods, all Lydia’s favorites. The Maitlands served the other’s first and did their own pantomime eating, which was essentially the same except it could never really feed them.
“You didn’t have to do all this guys.”
“We wanted to, syrup?”
“Yes please!”
Lydia’s pancakes were fantastic and the dinner went well, only minimal grumbling from Delia and only one slightly pointed remark from her father. By the end, Lydia’s heart was asking her to reconsider leaving. She steeled her resolve, and focused on enjoying her last meal in the house.
“Did I ever tell you about the time Lydia colored an entire page in her coloring book black and tried to retrace the picture from memory with white?”
Charles volunteered to the Maitlands, which had them immediately engaged.
“No, please share!”
Barbra leaned forward in her seat to catch all the details while Lydia groaned and Delia chuckled into her wine.
“Well, she ran out of black crayons…” the stories continued from there.
Adam shared the time he and Lydia had recreated the Parthenon in miniature from pictures in her textbook. Barbra shared the story about when her gardening outside had been impossible to maintain so Lydia had helped her move all her plants into window boxes so she could take care of them, as well as when she’d started a bed of mushrooms at Lydia’s request. Delia was on her fourth glass of wine when she shared the first time she’d seen Lydia.
“Well, I was at a party, very exclusive, and Charles was there as well. He was hosting actually, anyway, I was headed to the bathroom to powder my nose when this shadow scampered across my path. I screamed and it screamed back at me, which was when I realized it was a little girl.”
She took another swig and giggled to herself.
“She had a black cape pulled up around her head and was done up in all sorts of dark face paint. She was wearing a black raincoat and boots and was carrying a doll who’s hair had been all shorn off. I asked where her parents were and, do you remember what you said Lydia dear?”
She leaned conspiratorially close and Lydia shook her head. She vaguely recalled scaring a woman who looked like Delia though she had done similar things at several adult parties she wasn’t supposed to attend.
“You said that they were dead. And you were an orphan who had come to avenge their fallen souls.”
She giggled into her glass, not realizing it was a tad insensitive of a story in present company. The silence stretched and she didn’t notice, lost in memory. Then a car horn honked outside. Lydia shot up and looked out the window, sure enough Lonnie’s brown Volkswagen van was idling in the driveway. He had stepped out and was moving toward the door. She turned around to the group.
“This is it. It’s been really amazing today, and I’m really proud to call you guys my family.” She smiled at them and they all rose to hug her. Lonnie’s sharp knock broke the moment and she was ushered gently outside. Adam and Barbra hung back a little, watching from the porch as Charles and Delia walked her over to the van. Lonnie was smoking and he tossed her bags inside roughly.
He shook Charles’s hand and Charles twitched so hard he cracked his neck. The up-down once-over he gave Delia was lost on her as she stared into his van, there were three nude posters of women visible through the open door, and a mattress with one sheet on the ground.
“Ok, goodbye! I love you guys!” Lydia hugged her parents and the Maitlands waved and called out to her from the edge of the stairs, unable to get any closer. She got up into the passenger side and Lonnie took off, slamming into reverse and executing a tipsy three point turn on the way out.
“Watch out for the bridge!”
Adam and Barbra called in unison, loud enough to be heard over the engine.
“Watch the bridge Lonnie, it’s not very sturdy.”
“What? It’s not like somebody died here or anything, it’s fine I’m sure.”
“You never know.”
“Fine.”
Lydia watched her family fading away in the distance, and eventually she couldn’t even see the top of the house anymore. She leaned back into the cracked leather seat and held Lonnie’s hand. She was going to have an amazing journey.