"Isn't she too young to get married?" Liz asks. "She's my age." Liz corrects herself, "I mean, she was my age. Actually, she was a month older than me, so I guess that makes her almost twentytwo."
Owen takes out a pen and begins filling out the response card. "Will madam be bringing a guest?"
"No," Liz replies.
"What about me?" asks Owen, his eyes wide with mock offense.
"Sorry to disappoint, O," Liz says, taking the response card from him, "but I think we'd have a little trouble making travel arrangements." She carefully slips the response card and the invitation back into the envelope.
"We could watch from the OD," Owen suggests.
"I don't want to watch," Liz says.
"Then we could dive," Owen says. "From the Well, you could congratulate her and everything."
"I can't believe you're even suggesting that." Liz shakes her head. "In your line of work."
"Oh come on, Liz! Where's your sense of adventure? One last hurrah before we're too young for any more hurrahs! What do you say?"
Liz thinks for a moment before she answers. "When I died, Zooey didn't go to my funeral, so I see no need to attend her wedding."
That night in bed, Liz reads Zooey's note. She notices that Zooey's handwriting is the same as when they were both fifteen and used to pass notes in school.
Dear Liz,
It's pretty crazy for me to write you after all this time, but as you can see, I'm getting married! :) I've missed you a lot. I wonder where you are, and what you've been doing. And in case you've wondered about me, I'm in my first year of law school, here in Chicago where I live now.
So if you have the time and the inclination, and if you happen to be in Boston (we wanted Chicago, but Mom won), you should drop by the wedding. The boy's name is Paul, and he smells good, and he has nice forearms.
I know you probably won't ever get this letter (sort of feels like writing to Santa which is really bizarre considering I'm Jewish), but it was worth a shot. I already tried a psychic medium and Rabbi Singer of Congregation B'nai B'rith, where my parents still attend services back in Brookline. Incidentally, Mom and Dad say "hi." It was Paul s idea to put the invite in the bottle. I think he got it from a movie, though.
Love,
Your Best Friend on Earth (I hope),
Zooey
P.S. Fm sorry I didn't go to your funeral.
"I want to give a toast," Liz announces to Owen the next morning.
"By all means," Owen says, sitting down with his cup of coffee. "I'm all ears."
"Not now, silly," Liz replies. "I meant at Zooey's wedding. Your idea to go to the Well might not be as bad as I first thought."
"So you're saying you want to dive?" Owen's eyes light up.
"Yes, and I need you to help me with the toast. The last time I tried to communicate from the Well was a bit of a disaster," Liz says.
"That was the night you met me, I believe."
"Like I said, it was a bit of a disaster," Liz jokes.
"That isn't funny." Owen shakes his head.
Liz continues, "All the faucets in the house turned on, and "
"Beginner's mistake," Owen interrupts.
"And nobody could understand what I was saying," Liz finishes.
"And you were arrested," Owen adds.
"That, too," Liz concedes. "So how do I make it so the people at the wedding will understand me and not run from the room screaming?"
"Well, for one, you have to remember not to scream. Once you have their attention, whispering is much more effective. Screaming ghosts scare people, you know," Owen says.
"Good tip."
"And you have to pick a running water source and focus on it. And good breath control is a must,"
Owen says. "I'll come with you, of course, but only if you want me to."
"Won't you get sacked if they know you're helping me make Contact?"
Owen shrugs. "I'm head of the whole department now, and people tend to look the other way."
Liz smiles. "Then I guess it's settled." She raises her glass of orange juice. "To our dive!" she proclaims.
"To our dive!" Owen repeats, raising his cup of coffee. "I love an adventure, don't you?"
The evening of Zooey's wedding reception, Owen and Liz meet at the beach at eight o'clock. The reception starts at eight-thirty, and the dive itself should take forty minutes by Owen's calculations.
"Once we get there, you only have a little over half an hour," Owen warns her. "I've told the boys from work to pick us up at nine-thirty."
"Do you think that's long enough?" Liz worries.
"It isn't good to spend too much time down there. It is still illegal, you know."
Liz nods.
"I don't mean to be rude, but your wet suit's a bit loose in the bottom, Liz," Owen says.
"Is it?" She tugs at the stretchy fabric around her butt. "The wet suit's getting old. I haven't used it in almost six years."
"You look like you're wearing a diaper."
"Yeah, well, I guess I'm shrinking, too. I am nine, you know," Liz says.
"That's little."
"Well, I'm actually nine-six, and I would have been twentyone, so that's not the same as being plain nine," Liz says. "Besides, Owen, you're eleven. That's not much older than nine."
"I'm eleven?" Owen asks. "I certainly don't feel eleven."
"Well, you certainly act eleven a lot of the time," Liz teases.
"And if I'd lived, I would have been forty-one," Owen adds.
"Wow, that's really old!" Liz shakes her head. "Imagine! If you were forty-one, and I was twentyone, and we still lived on Earth, we probably never would have met."
The dive passes without incident. Having made it many times before, Owen is an excellent guide.
When they get to the Well, they can find only one running water source with a view into the reception a large outdoor fountain across a courtyard. From this location, they can mostly see through the tall glass windows that line the walls of the ballroom where Zooey's reception is being held.
"We aren't very close," Liz complains. "If I had only wanted to watch, we could have just gone to the OD."
"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."