"I'm Engaged, But We're Just Friends..."

[Teach]

“I’m Engaged, But We’re Just Friends…”

“Walt, how are you?” the voice said. I was talking on the phone with Sandy Saunders. Sandy and I had never dated, but we were, in a manner of speaking, “old friends”.

I would first meet Sandy when she was a young girl, then just entering high school (At the time, I was entering my freshman year in college). Over the course of weeks and months, our paths would occasionally cross when we were either “hanging out” or shopping “On the Avenue,” a.k.a. Boston’s Blue Hill Ave. I thought then that this skinny kid (Sandy) would one day turn out to be a very beautiful, young woman.

The years past, I was about to graduate from college; Sandy, for her part, was graduating from high school. At the time, I was dating a neighborhood girl named Susan Roberts.

Well, one fall week, my buddy, Mark Carey, called. He wanted to know what I was doing Saturday night. I told Mark that I planned to go out, but that I didn’t have access to “wheels”. Mark succinctly said, “Walt, you get me a date; I’ll provide you with the transportation.” (Sort of like: “Have Car, Will Travel”). I then asked, “Mark, where do you want to go?” At this point I should mention that Mark was a big basketball fan. Mark says, “How ‘bout we take our dates to The Boston Garden to see the Celtics play the Knicks.”

Frankly, that wasn’t my first choice, but “in the land of vehicular transportation, the man with a car is king.” So, I called Sue Roberts. I remember saying, “Sue, how’s if we take in a Boston Celtics basketball game, Saturday?” I added, “We could go out to eat after the game.” “Sounds good to me,” Sue said. “Oh Sue, one other thing, could you fix my friend Mark Carey up with one of your friends?” Sue said, “Let me make a couple calls and I’ll get right back to you.” An hour or two later Sue calls back to say that one of her friends, Sandy Saunders (as soon as Sue mentioned Sandy’s name, it set off whistles and bells), would be happy to join us as Mark’s date. I then called Mark back (you’d be surprised how many calls you make when you’re double-dating) to tell him everything’s all set. I told Sue that we’d pick up both her and Sandy (they lived practically next door) about 6:30 Saturday night.

That Saturday evening, Mark and I picked up our dates. We go to the Celtics game and then to a Chinese restaurant near the famous Eire Pub (former President Ronald Reagan had a brew there when he was campaigning for the presidency). The restaurant was on Gallivan Blvd. near Adams St. in the Dorchester section of Boston.

When we were seated in the Chinese restaurant, I would get my first up-close look at Sandy Saunders. She looked lovely. Just as I had figured when she was young, a pimple-faced, skinny little kid; that she’d someday morph into a beautiful, young woman. Frankly, if I had my druthers, I would have preferred to be dating Sandy than Sue. But as my Dad used to say, “You dance with the girl you brung.”

After that double-date, I thought about calling Sandy, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. It wasn’t so much that my friend Mark had dated her that evening (he showed no indication of wanting to see her again). It was more that Sue, who I had been seeing, and Sandy were very close friends. I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t go there.

Oh the years slipped by and I was now teaching history on Long Island. During one of the school vacations I came home to see my friends and family. One night a couple of my buddies and I were having Chinese; (Someone once told me that if a neighborhood doesn’t have a good Chinese restaurant, you shouldn’t live there) I believe it was my friend Stan who told me that he had met someone who knew Sandy Saunders. He added that he was told that Sandy was living and working on Long Island.

About one month later I got around to calling Sandy. After we exchanged greetings, we got around to possibly getting together for lunch or dinner. It was then that Sandy dropped “the bombshell” (you may have guessed it). No. she wasn’t married, but she was engaged. Sandy went on to say, “Walt, we’re just friends from the old neighborhood. I don’t think it would hurt…” I interrupted, “But Sandy, you’re engaged. Have you set a date, yet?” “No,” she said. I then said, “Even so, you are engaged. I’m sure you must have a ring. (All the time I’m thinking about how bad I would have felt if my soon-to-be wife got a call from a male friend, maybe an “old flame,” and went out with him; my trust in my wife would have ended right then and there).

In the end, I told Sandy “we have realistic about this.” Unfortunately, I had re-entered Sandy’s life too late in the game. I would tell her with a note of sadness that I wasn’t going to get-together with her. I think she understood. I remembering Sandy saying, “Walt, you’re right.” She went on to say, “It’s been good talking to you.” I remember saying good-bye to Sandy and then wishing her the very best.

Oh, there’s an unusual twist to all this. It’s almost bizarre, but it happened. The woman I dated the night we went to the Celtics basketball game, Sue Saunders; well, she ended up marrying my friend, Mark Carey (I went to their wedding). In fact, when I got married in June, 1969, Mark was a guest at my wedding. His wife, Sue, couldn’t make it; she was home expecting their first child. (In fact, I was surprised Mark even came to my wedding, given the circumstances.

To add insult to injury, at our wedding reception, Mark, with his first child due any day, is trying to pick up one of my wife’s friends. As it turns out, Mark and Sue divorced about a couple years after they were married. On a personal note: I haven’t seen or heard about Sue Roberts or Sandy Saunders in over 50 years. As for Mark Carey, the last time I saw was at a 50th birthday party for a mutual friend. I believe he was working on his third wife.