Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice

Chapter 11: Delia

   Delia arrived that weekend, arms laden with suitcases. She was an old woman now but still insisted on doing her makeup as she had done back in the 80's. Her hair still maintained that fierce copper colour but was badly damaged through years of abuse from various Hair Dye products she'd used. 
  Katrina answered the door, her lips drawn into a thin line as she tried to bear the presence of her step grandmother again. 
"Darling!" Delia cried, throwing her arms about Katrina. "My you've grown haven't you!"
"Yes. I realised that when my clothes started getting smaller." 
"You might joke but that's what I used to do to all of Lydia's clothes in the wash. How are you sweetie?" She thrust her suitcase into Katrina's hands without waiting for a reply. "Where's your sister?" 
"Here." Beth was perched at the top of the stairs, her little face peeking through the banisters. 
"Well come here and say hello to Grandma Delia then." 
Beth reluctantly obeyed, getting smothered by lipsticky kisses. "Wow. This house. It's been a long time." Delia craned her neck to get a good look into all the rooms from her place on the hallway floor. "Is your mother in?" 
"She's here too." Said Beth, pointing to the living room doorway. 
Delia, of course, could not see anything but she was entirely aware that her stepdaughter would be listening and probably rolling her eyes. 
"Hello, Lydia. What's it like then? The after life."
"She says it's alright." Beth translated after a moment. "Not as peaceful as she'd imagined. 
"No rest for the wicked." Delia winked. "Funny, I naturally assumed I'd be the first to find out. How did you do it, darling?" 
"She fell down the stairs." 
"She was pushed." Katrina corrected. 
"Pushed? By who?" 
"She fell." Beth glared at her sister. Lydia had given them strict orders not to mention Beetlejuice in front of their grandmother. She too had been involved in his antics all those years ago and would probably have run a mile if she knew he was back. 
"Alright girls, what's going on here?" 
The door to the kitchen slammed with a loud bang and everyone but Delia jumped. 
"Hello Adam, hello Barbara." She said with a little smile. "Good to know you guys are still around." 
Adam muttered something very rude under his breath and Beth bit back a laugh, choosing instead to say, "They're pleased to see you too." 

  Dinner was an awkward affair, with three seemingly empty chairs and three full ones. Plates had been laid out for all six residents, alive and dead, but only three of those plates had food on them. Barbara said ghosts didn't eat and Lydia was adamant that, even if she could, she would have no appetite after the shock of dying less than a week ago. 
"So let me get this straight," Delia said, spooning casserole into her  mouth. "You can see them, Beth, but your sister can't." 
"That's right." Beth was exhausted, having already answered this question at least five times. 
"Why?" 
"Only the strange and unusual can see them." Beth replied. "That's what it said in the handbook."
"Handbook?"
"And I am strange and unusual. Katrina is not." 
"Of course I'm used to living with ghosts, but for you it must be rather odd." 
"Not really. I mean.. I guess we're not an average family but-"
"It's fine, really it's fine." Delia assured her. Then turning in the direction of the empty chairs she said sternly, "Just don't try any of that Banana Boat crap with me again." 
The girls wrinkled their noses in confusion and Lydia mouthed, "I'll explain later." to Beth before Delia was off chattering again. Not that anyone was really listening to her. 
  It was Katrina that finally plucked up the courage to address the rather delicate issue of Lydia's body, which was still stored neatly in an upstairs cupboard. 
"We need some help with something..." She began. "The thing is... when mom.. you know-"
"Died." Beth cut in, sensing her sister's discomfort. 
"Yeah.. she didn't really know what to do and she kind of, put herself in the attic so we wouldn't see her."
Delia rolled her eyes. "Oh don't tell me the body's still in the house?" 
The girls nodded, looking down at their laps. Lydia reached across the table and patted Beth's hand sympathetically. 
"I'd tell her if I could." She said. 
"Where's she sitting?" Delia demanded. 
"At the head of the table." 
Delia swivelled round in her chair and squared up to her step daughter with a despairing look. "You never change do you, Lydia? You were always an oddball. Come on then girls, I suppose we'd better get it moved."
She swiped a napkin across her mouth, leaving a trail of lipstick on the white paper, and got to her feet. "Look, do you want a decomposing corpse in your home or are you going to get up and give me a hand?"