Alternate Ending I Saw Years Ago

Wow. I've never seen this ending, but I agree it would have been much more effective than the "happily ever after" ending the film had. Of course, just the though of it depresses me.

Can anyone please tell me if there is a song in this movie sung by Johnny mathis called something like, "Last time I fell in Love?" Please tell me any info about which album it is on and what year it was popular. My Mother had asked me to search for it, and swears that Johnny Mathis has a song on it. I have not watched the movie myself, and know little about it. Anyone with info? I would appreciate it. Thanks...

Hi labooboo, I realize it has been a long time since you posted on this subject but I remember a scene like that too and kept waiting for it when I watched the movie today. (after not having seen it in decades)

I have just seen the movie after having seen it more than twenty years ago... I had very fond memories of it, and this reviewing hasn't disappointed them. And, though I admit it seems a tad forced, I really love the ending with the two of them together. Alright, one of them having died and the other alone waiting and realising it would be logical and more realistic, but... what the h***, life is sad enough as it is, so I welcome this 'edulcorated ending.

Wow, that ending would've been sad, but better because that's what we want, right - a real tearjerker.

Overall this movie was a disappointment. So close to being a great movie. The concept was good, the music was great and really set the mood. But the dialog wasn't too great. Alda's character was okay, but not great. I like him in general, but maybe he wasn't the best fit for this role. Realistic maybe, but not much depth. But even worse was Burnsyth. Her character was dull, and had some "airhead" lines that were supposed to be funny, but were so poorly written in made you cringe. Such potential, but Same Time Next Year falls flat. 5 stars out of 10.

I originally saw this movie in the early 1980's ( when I fell in love with the story and could watch it over and over again) and if I recall right, the ending I remember is the one where one of them dies...their children are going through some belongings and finds the other's phone number and the now adult child has no idea who this person is. The phone number is kept in a special place,(why do I want to say it is George who passes away) and Burstyn sheds some tears upon learning of his death from a phone call from his child. I saw this again on TV some time ago and told my husband, They changed the ending! I liked the sad ending because it kind of gave the story the "forever" feel to it.

I read the novelization by Linda Stewart. And yeah I know Bernard Slade did a sequel, I saw the play. I didn't like the ending, so as a budding author, I wrote an ending in short story form, for my own pleasure. My ending takes place in 1987.

The End, The Beginning.

George grimaced at his callousness. He looked at his cigarette. He needed to quit. Doris had mentioned his ashtray taste last year. She’d laughed it off, but she was right. Dammit, she was hardly ever wrong. With Helen, he couldn’t tolerate being wrong…hell, she’d broken his pecker like that. Doris, she makes the negatives seem like…well nothing was really wrong. Yet, you knew she didn’t like it. George would have to quit. He tossed the cigarette to the cottage’s gravel sideway and ground it out with the toe of his Air Jordans. Coldhearted as it was, George was glad: At last Harry was dead.
George paced. Every so often, he glanced up the rise, where cars turned off the highway to enter the Sea Shadows Inn parking lot. He shook his head. He felt like he did that first morning when he woke up beside her in bed: stunned, awed, frightened, in love, yet completely at a loss as far as knowing what to do. Yes, now it was all the same to him. George half-pulled a cigarette from his pack. Just then, Chalmer’s kid came up the pathway with his tool kit from fixing something in one of the cabins further down. George laughed to himself. Angus’s son was easily his own age, yet he referred to him as a kid.
George held the cigarettes up. “You want these? I quit.” He wished he could remember the kid’s name. He was so damn good with numbers, but names…. George smiled. He remembered how he’d called Doris Dorothy all that first night.
Lawrence Chalmers nodded. He caught the Benson & Hedges neatly, “Thanks,” and strode on toward the main house.
There Josephine stood huddled within her own arms. It wasn’t the sea breeze, none today. George knew how she felt, same time, every year. She missed old Chalmers. How many years since he’d gone peacefully on a bench looking out at the ocean. In the will, Angus left the Sea Shadows Inn to Lawrence, with the stipulation that Josephine stayed as long as she wished. She’d confided in Doris, she wasn’t going anywhere.
The gravel crunched at the highway. George jerked his attention from Josephine to the road. He shoulders drooped. It wasn’t Doris. He needed a cigarette. He checked his watch. Instantly his mind did the math: Six-oh-five minus two twenty five: it was 2:40. She was late. George paced. How many jewelers had eyed him strangely when he had the time set fast in all these years since the stem in the old Elgin had broken? When they got married he’d have to get used to his watch reading the right time. The things one does for love.
And speaking of love…. He hoped he was right. He’d threatened to leave early many times before. This time he really didn’t intend to stay. He’d flown up and taken a taxi from Mendocino. The traffic was terrible, the cab fee horrific.
George stopped pacing; “The traffic!” He smiled. It turned to a pained look. His knees bothered him. The steps: he could watch for her from the cabin’s steps. He was sure she would be able to tell him how to be rid of the nag. It was a reminder left from when he’d tried to prove his youth by break dancing a few years ago. The piano bench in the cabin had caught him mid whirl. George sat and rubbed his knee and waited.


Doris waved at the policeman as she passed the accident. She hoped the cab driver was okay. The cop waved at her a little more frantically. Wasn’t my fault, she thought. Nevermind. Just a few more miles. She looked forward to seeing George, more so this year than any other. Finally, there were no secrets, nothing to hide. Nothing much. “Well, just the thirty some years of them.” For the kids’ sake, they would have to stay hidden. Unfaithful is one thing, but this problem…. Doris turned the radio on. She pushed in the cassette tape. The music would help hold back the thinking until she had George in arm. She pressed the fast-forward button. Somewhere on the tape was “If I Knew You Were Comin' I'd've Baked A Cake.” Harry never could understand her infatuation with the song. He’d called it stupid several times, but never pursued the point, luckily.
The “Sea Shadows Inn” sign came. Doris sat up, brushed back a bit of hair from her temple and checked her smile. Of course, George wouldn’t care how made up she was. He’d be ready to get her in bed anyway she looked. It was good to be chased, pursued. Being with Harry was okay, comfortable, but George, he had the thrill of the unknown. What would he be up to? His failure to apply his mathematical calculating skills to his personal actions made him so…charming, vulnerable, and, oh sure, okay…loveable. But enough to take him home to the kids, unannounced, a known quantity and quality to her, already?
Doris shifted gears in the old Studebaker. The kids had purchased it for her and Harry for their last anniversary. He loved the car. He cried. She didn’t cry. It was just a car, but now it was taking her back like the first time she’d met George. She planned to spend the weekend like always; in between the sex they would talk things through, and be ready to leave Sunday.
Doris unbuttoned the top button of her blouse. The thought of sex made her warm. The Studebaker had no air conditioning. Doris couldn’t roll the window down and ruin he hair. She stopped the cassette from fast-forward. She smiled the next song was hers and Georges’s. Her thought went ahead to the Sea Shadows Inn. How had their futures seemingly inexplicably get sealed. A good story of how they met and fell in love in one night could be as simple as they met over steak in a crowded restaurant. She was hungry, and early for the retreat. She met George when he recommended the steak. They’d met there a time or two over the years. Not too far of a stretch. Leave out a few details. We’re okay.
She wanted this to be the last time they arrived separately. Doris did want to come back until her bones were too brittle to risk contact. She hoped it worked out.
The Studebakers turn signal light blinked slowly. After traffic cleared, the gravel groaned under the car’s tires. Doris looked up at Josephine in front of the main house. When she pointed Doris looked down the way. There he sat, rubbing his knee. He stood and waved. She shook her head. He had that look on his face. What was George up to now?


When Harry had died, running, the thing that had saved him at first, Doris called George. After she told him, he’d hung up before she’d finished. In the 30 seconds that had elapsed, when he answered the phone again, he was out of breath. He’d raced through his house packing a few things, ready to be at her side, to comfort her, “For God’s sake George, to ruin everything.”
“What do you mean, Doris?”
“No one here knows you. Well…except Liz.”
“But you’re alone. Grieving. I need to be there.”
“I’ve got the kids. Georgette has moved into the house. She’s going to stay until things are settled. What would the children think if you showed up, and you know everything there is to know about me? They have the tragedy of losing their father and then…. have to grapple with the fact that their mother has cheated on him for ‘How many years?’”
“Over thirty.”
“Rhetorical question, George, on their parts.”
“Well, okay, maybe I didn’t think things all the way through. I was under a certain stress. You’re right. I am sorry, though. I wouldn’t have wished this on you, not out loud.”
“I know George. Thank you. I appreciate it. I’d love for you to be here, but not now.”
“When? Marry me, Doris.” He heard a hand go over the receiver again. Someone asked Doris something. He couldn’t make it out. “Who’s that?”
“Hold on.” She held the phone away and told the interloper the call was about retreat. “That was Georgette.”
“I can’t wait to meet my namesake.”
“We’ll talk about everything in a few weeks away. I’ll be alright. Arrangements will take that long to get wrapped up. Really-“
George listened anxiously through the pause.
Quietly, Doris said, “I love you.”
He sat hard in the phone/table chair Helen had gotten from the side of the road. She’d actually gone up to the people’s door and asked for permission to take it from the trash. “Okay Doris.” He stood and looked at the chair. He peered around the empty house where Helen still spoke in the same comfortable memories Doris had spoke of when George had last proposed to her nearly ten years ago. She couldn’t give up on Harry. Life with him was comfortable. Despite George’s saying he had to be married, and he couldn’t wait, he had waited, not asking again. He said, “I love you, Doris.”
She parked and climbed out. He hurried over and hugged her. He said, “I’m sorry,” took her hand and led her to the Studebaker’s passenger door.
“George?”
He opened the car.
“George?”
He held his hand out, asking her to get in.
“GEORGE!”
“What?”
“Will you listen to me?”
“Doris?”
“Where are we going?”
“Home.”
“Home?”
“We can get married right away, of course after the license. And then-”
“Let’s go inside.”
“Inside? What for?”
“Let’s think this through.”
“Why? After all these years, we get to do what we’ve wanted. What’s to think about? What’s the problem?”
“George, I am running for Mayor of Oakland.”
“So?”
“The problem is how could I keep this from the press? The mayor had cheated on her husband for– Oh yes! They’d find the exact number -thirty three years. AND, you can not just appear in my life as my husband.”
“Dammit. I had it all worked out.” George slammed the car door shut. He squeezed Doris’s butt and put his arm around her waist. “Okay, so I didn’t think this all the way through. I’ve waited this long, what’s another few hours?”
“Hours? Oh, George, we’ll be in bed that long.” They kissed and went inside cabin 7.
Both were giddy. All the years of dreams of what could be was about to come true, maybe. After the “hours,” they’d have to figure out how to make the end into a beginning.


Soon after George and Doris were in bed, the phone rang. George froze. His eyes wide, panic-stricken, the sheets bunched as he backed away from Doris. He fell to the floor. “Oh, my God. Oh my God!”
She giggled. “It’s okay, honey. What’s the worse they can do to us, call our parents?”
Doris laughed when he peered over the edge of the bed, sheepishly. Both turned and watched the phone. After two more rings the sounds of the waves broke through the tension from behind the cabin. George peered over the bed’s edge. Doris watched him try to rationalize his reaction to the phone
He pulled himself up and said, “Force of habit. I guess this won’t be as easy to get used to as I thought. Of course, you know, we’re both still afraid; you could have answered it.”
She smiled. “You have just as much guilt when you’re innocent as you do when you’re guilty, George.” Doris patted the side of the bed. “You’re right. Ya, know, maybe it’s more fun the other way. Let’s try it out and see.” She coaxed him closer. “Now, where were we?”

***

The heavy breathing finished, George and Doris sat in bed propped up on pillows against the headboard. She examined her finger-nails. She found it hard to believe she was the same woman who, the first time in cabin 7, couldn’t afford a bottle of clear polish. Now she could afford to buy her own nail salon. He chewed on his nails and said what he thought: “It was just as good, Doris. Remember the lame logic I tried to get you to do it again that first morning? ‘The Russians have the bomb.’ I was like a teenager. You remember how many times we used to do it? At this age, I suppose I’d have to tell you about how the level of endorphin rises during sex. It takes away all the pain in my knee and old achy joints. Let me try something new; Whud’ya say, want to do it again?”
“You are still the same horny young pup you always were. You still can’t stop talking about it. How about after we grab a bit to eat? I was so nervous this morning I couldn’t.”
George considered talking her into more sex. He shrugged the rejection off. He’d get more sooner than the same time next year. He resisted the urge to grab her ass when she rose Doris sat at the vanity. “I saw that.”
“What?” He grinned, and then said, “Lawrence shuttered the restaurant. He said Josephine can’t keep a good eye on it. He doesn’t have the time, and besides, knows nothing about running one. ‘Too much hassle.’ he says. I’ll miss the place. The steaks were good.”
Doris laughed. “They were tough. You only liked them because you were over-run with testosterone when you sat across from me. You’d have chewed on your wing-tips and thought them great, as long as I was on the other side of the table.” She laughed again as she brushed her hair. In the mirror she watched him finish dressing and go to the piano. Doris asked, “Do I look old, George?” She touched her neck and wondered if it was time to have it tightened.
“This is for you.” He played Be My Love on the piano.
“You romantic. You dodged the question. You never could tell the whole truth.”
Still playing the tune, he watched her dress. The color of her sweater matches her eyes, he thought as she pulled it on. He hit a wrong key a time or two. George loved her breasts just as he always had. With a sigh, he finished the song. “I’d chew on wing-tips to be with you. AND…you look as young as you did in ’51.”
Doris opened the front door. “See, you still don’t lie worth a damn. Let’s get something to eat.” She waited. “Well, we going?”
“I can’t.”
“Why not, George?”
“Well…um…Doris?”
“What is it, George?”
“I have a terrific hard-on. It’d be indecent for me to go outside.” The piano plinked when he used the keys to lift himself. George stood, turned side-ways and stared at Doris. “Please?”
She sighed. “Okay. One more time. Then, really, I have to eat.” She took her sweater off. George picked up the receiver, listened to the dial tone and laid the receiver on the phone table. “You know, I love you Doris.” Grinning, he undid his pants.


Doris held out the car keys. “You want to drive, George?”
“Is it okay? Would Harry-”
Both froze, looking at each other. George could think of nothing to say but Dammit. Doris turned away from him. With a handkerchief at her eyes, she walked toward the cabin. George let the thought out. “Dammit,” loud enough to be sure only he heard it. Like he used to do with Helen, all the same she would acknowledge the remark. Even-though sometimes he swore he’d never actually said anything. George leaned against the car. “Doris. I’m sorry. It slipped.” She didn’t hear that either. He watched her wend around to the back of the cabin. George bent and groaned as he rubbed at the soreness.
“Was that Mrs. Doris Baker?”
George bolted upright. His back screamed in pain. The hurting knee nearly buckled. George bounced against the Studebaker and grabbed the car’s door handle to keep from falling. He looked up and seethed, “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I only asked a question.”
“You usually sneak up on people to do it?” George glanced toward the back of cabin. Doris was out of view.
*beep* Do you old people get cranky from being old, or is it with you all along?”
George pushed himself from the car. He put pressure on his knee. The pain was mostly gone. Good old adrenaline. He massaged his back, just above his kidneys, it hurt, now. He eyed the kid. George guessed him to be maybe 19 or 20. He took some solace in that as young as he was he was losing his hair already. Good. Gangly, pimple faced. At 20? Good. He wore a Facts of Life t-shirt, trashy looking Levi’s and flip-flops. George wondered what the kid wanted. Sure he wasn’t being paranoid, he knew it wasn’t good.
He was about the dress the kid down like he was his own who’d done something irritatingly stupid when, standing at the end of the sidewalk leading the main house, Josephine shouted: “Hey! I thought I told you to get lost? You don’t have a room here. You’re trespassing. Beat it, NOW.” She pointed to the highway.
The kid grouched, “Bitch.” not really under his breath. He looked at George not embarrassed and strode away. He got in his beat-up car and drove away.
Hand on his back and favoring his knee, George made his way to Josephine. He had to find out who he was and what was going on. They were too close to finally getting together. Things weren’t finalized. “Thanks, Josephine,” he said. “Who was that?”
“Says he’s a reporter, from Oakland.”
“A reporter? Dammit.”
“He came in just after she did. I told him I did know of any Doris Baker. I showed him the reservation book, ‘See, no Doris here.’ He wanted to stick around. I told him I had no room for him to hang around. ‘All booked up.’ I said he’d make the guests nervous. He spouted freedom of the press. I told him ‘Private Property.’”
George listened to crunch of gravel under foot as he shifted nervously. He’d pissed Doris off and now this reporter was looking for her. Things were not going well. Going to *beep* fast. “He wanted Doris….”
“Why?”
“Scoop. She’s running for Mayor.” George peered back toward cabin 7.
“He has wind of you?”
George flinched. “No.” That had not occurred to him. “Couldn’t be.” He’d figured he just wanted an exclusive interview, away from the rest of the hounds. “He’d have collared me when he had a chance. He didn’t ask who I was. He just wanted her.” George rubbed his chin. He glanced out to the highway and back to Josephine. “Do her a favor?”
“Anything.”
He pulled out his wallet and paused. Doris had given it to him on his fiftieth birthday. He’d said he keep it right where he thought she might like it the best: near his ass. She’d laughed until she cried. George said to Josephine, “Take the Studebaker and park it somewhere, away.”
She pushed the twenty back.
“I’ll garage it. Give me a jingle when you want it back.”
“I owe you. We owe you.”
“You owe me nothing. Lucky she wasn’t there. Where is she?”
“Oh, were going to get something to eat and I screwed up and mentioned Harry. I hope she didn’t jump into the ocean.”
“Nah. It always helped Angus cool down. Give her a minute and apologize. She’ll be a little better. Go talk to her.” Josephine touched George’s shoulder. She turned to go inside, then stopped and said, “What do you want for dinner?”
“We couldn’t ask you-”
She jangled the cars keys. “The Mayor of Oakland go? Here? I feel so proud; like she’s my own daughter.” The keys rattled again. Josephine grasps them still. “How will get there?”
“She’s running for it, not there yet.” He also hadn’t thought of how they’d get anywhere to go to eat when he’d given up the car. “Thank you, Josephine.”
“No problem. I’ll get my shoes and move the car.” She nodded and headed to the main house. Josephine stopped and turned. She pointed at George. “Be here at seven.”
He nodded. George wondered what happened to the new man he was supposed to be. He’d jumped her bones when she said “No.” Made a stupid assumption, without thinking and hurt her feelings. “Nice job, George,” he said like Helen. He chided himself for acting without thinking. George took a deep breath. He had to fix what he’d done.
The clouds were spreading out in anticipation of night. The sun was about to test the water. Waves crashed into the rocks below. George touched a tear on Doris’s cheek. He whispered, “Sorry.” Doris fell into George’s arms and sobbed. He hugged her and cried also.
The sun was half gone when Doris finished. “I’m sorry, George.”
“Don’t be. You lost your husband. I’d be a bigger fool than I am to think I could easily replace him. I was callous. I didn’t think. You can blot up my shirt anytime.”
She wiped her cheeks. “I bet I look like *beep*
“Doris, I’m your fly.” George closed his eyes, touched his forehead with his fingertips and shook his head.

Yes, I too have seen this ending but can't remember when or where, must have been a million years ago.