Elsewhere(61)

"Don't worry. We'll find a better place for you to make your toast from," Owen assures her.

Across the courtyard and through the windows, Liz sees a wedding party much like every other one she has ever seen: abundant yellow roses, bridesmaids' dresses in pink, a bored-looking wedding singer, Zooey in an off-white A-line dress, the groom in a gray tuxedo with tails. Liz sees Zooey's mother and father among the crowd. And behind them, she sees her own mother and father.

"Look, Owen, it's my mom and dad. Dad looks older, and Mom changed her hair," Liz says. "Hi, Mom! Hi, Dad!" Liz waves. "Oh, and there's my brother! Hi, Alvy!"

"Which one's Zooey?" Owen asks.

"Duh," Liz replies, "she's the one in the white dress."

"Oh, right!"

Liz rolls her eyes. "You're definitely getting stupider as you get younger, O." Liz looks at Zooey.

Zooey is twentyone, a woman. How odd, Liz thinks, that I'm nine and she's twentyone.

"We really should start looking for a place for you to toast from," Owen says. "We've only got about twentyfive minutes left."

First, they try the bathroom sink.

"CONGRATULATIONS, ZOOEY! THIS IS ELIZABETH MARIE HALL!" Liz yells. But the bathroom is too far away, and no one hears her.

"Maybe I'll wait until she comes in here?" Liz says to Owen. "At least then I'd get to talk to her."

"Not enough time. And brides always complain that they never get to eat or go to the bathroom.

Let's try the kitchen," Owen suggests.

The kitchen, while slightly closer to the reception area, is incredibly noisy with staff and plates and timers and other kitchen sounds.

"I LOVE YOU, ZOOEY! CONGRATULATIONS TO YOU AND PAUL," Liz yells again, this time from the kitchen sink.

A busboy screams and drops a tray filled with dirty salad plates.

"SORRY," Liz apologizes. "This is getting ridiculous," Liz says to Owen. "All I've succeeded in doing is scaring a waiter. We have to find somewhere closer."

In a burst of desperation, Liz suggests the samovar, but Owen, who knows more about these things, rejects the idea on the grounds that the water source has to be connected to actual plumbing. Despite Owen's warnings against it, Liz tries the coffee pot, but it doesn't work anyway.

(She's glad it doesn't work she would have felt entirely stupid giving a toast from a coffee pot.) "Oh, let's just go back to the fountain," Liz says dejectedly. "Maybe if we both yell together, she'll hear us."

"CONGRATULATIONS! CONGRATULATIONS! CONGRATULATIONS!" Owen and Liz scream from the fountain.

They continue yelling for five more minutes, but no one hears them over the noise from the fountain and through the walls. "Well," Liz says with a sigh, "at least I got to see Zooey in her wedding dress. We could have just done that from the ODs, I suppose."

"But it wouldn't have been as much fun," Owen points out.

"Should we swim back?" Liz asks.

"No, we might as well just wait," Owen says. "The boat'll be here in about ten minutes anyway."

While they wait, Liz watches Zooey's reception inside the ballroom. From their position at the fountain, she can see her own mother and father dancing.

"Your mom looks like you," Owen observes.

"Mom's hair is darker. She actually looks more like Alvy than . . ." Liz's voice trails off. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Alvy leave the reception hall through the side door. He's walking toward the fountain.

"Liz?" Owen asks.

"I think my brother's coming this way," Liz says.

Alvy walks right up to the fountain and looks into the water. Liz holds her breath.

"Lizzie," Alvy whispers to the fountain.

"Remember," Owen says, "don't yell."

"It's me," Liz whispers.

"I thought I heard you," Alvy says. "First I thought it was coming from the bathroom. And then the kitchen. And then out here."

Liz's eyes well up a little bit. Good old Alvy. "Alvy, it's so good to talk to you."

"I'll go get Zooey! You're here to congratulate her, right? I'll go get Mom and Dad, too," Alvy says.

"They'll definitely want to talk to you."

Owen shakes his head. "The guys are going to be here in five minutes."

"There isn't time, Alvy," Liz says. "Just give Zooey and Mom and Dad my love. In a way that won't freak them out, of course."

"I'll just run in real quick and get them."

"No!" Liz says. "I might not be here when you get back. Let's just talk a little bit, you and me. I have to go soon."

"Okay," Alvy agrees.

"How's eighth grade?" she asks.

"I'm in ninth actually. I skipped."

"Alvy, that's awesome! You were always so smart. How's ninth grade, then?"

"It's cool," Alvy says. "I'm in debate this year, which is definitely better than band, which I was in last year. God, Lizzie, you don't actually want to know about this stuff, do you?"

"I do. I totally do."