tagLoving WivesThe Matrons of Regal Bay Ch. 71

The Matrons of Regal Bay Ch. 71


Tamara's Tales - Part 1

Sitting behind the large carved oak desk that was the principals at Regal Bay High School, Tamara Doolittle turned to look west out her second-floor office window over the expanse of green that was the front lawn of the school. At the intersection of three walks, centered in the plane of green, was the newly refurbished fountain, ringed by the three tall flag poles that flew the national, state, and city flags. Beyond the yard ran Van Winkle Boulevard, the four-lane axis that bisected the city from North Bay, through Van Winkle Heights, and on south to the budding community of Dalton, some two miles south of the casino and golf resort. The boulevard, which eventually connected to the 101 to the north as well as the south of Regal Bay, was busy most times of the day, as it was that Monday morning. Looking past the busy boulevard, Tamara took in the sight of the old part of town, somewhat in the distance, a view obscured by the many tall evergreen and spruce trees that still retained their color, long after the majority of Regal Bay's trees had lost their leaves with the coming winter. She had been born and raised in Regal Bay, and had hated every minute of growing up the daughter of a fisherman, stuck in a town that held nothing for her. She would always be thankful to her Uncle Dan, who had foot the bill for her to leave Regal Bay after graduation and attend college as far away as she could get; in Syracuse, New York.

Tamara had returned to Regal Bay three times in her adult life. Once, to attend the funeral of her mother. Again, to attend the ceremony for the men lost at sea, when the trawler her father had been on went down during a storm, somewhere off the coast of Southern Alaska. And the last time, to interview for the position of Principal of Regal Bay High School.

Why Tamara had suddenly felt a longing to return to her childhood home, she still didn't understand. She was married to a wonderful man, Stewart Jay Doolittle, a self-employed carpenter who could do wonders with raw wood and could easily support the two of them on the money he made alone. They had a daughter Virginia, who went by Ginger, who had recently graduated from New Hampshire University with a Liberal Arts Degree. Ginger was still working to find her way in life, even at the age of 27, and had been living in Regal Bay for more than a year before Tamara and Stewart joined her. Tamara was disappointed to learn that Ginger was working as a hotel assistant manager when she had flown out for her interview. That disappointment was doubled when she also learned that her daughter was the mother of a one-year old son, born out of wed-lock to Ginger's live-in boy-friend. It had taken Tamara a while to come to grips with being a grand-mother, even though she was only 54.

Lost in thought, Tamara hadn't realized that her desktop intercom had chimed until Lynn Harris had opened the link and informed her, "Thomas Kamp is here to see you, Mrs. Doolittle." Lynn was one of the High School administrators as well as one of the student counselors. Lynn was married to Scott Harris, the university's soccer and lacrosse teams coach.

Tamara touched the intercom, opening the link, and told Lynn to send the student in. Thomas Kamp was the basketball team's senior captain, the son of Doctor Calvin Kamp, as well as one of the young men instrumental in the recent events that had caused such upheaval at Regal Bay High, as well as across the city as a whole. On the desk before her were the hard-copy files for each of the young men, all senior basketball players, who had been arrested along with Mrs. McAllister, just a few weeks before. Bethany McAllister had been placed on administrative leave, pending further review, but would not be coming back to Regal Bay High, as far as Tamara knew, given the high profile the incident had become. As for the four young men who had been caught up in the incident, she would still need to deal with before the end of the semester and the winter break.

"Please, come in and have a seat, Mr. Kamp," Tamara said as the tall young man came through the door. She rose and waved for him to take the leather arm chair at the side of her desk, and once he had been seated, she returned to her own chair.

Thomas Kamp was one of four young men, all members of the high school basketball team, who had been arrested along with Bethany McAllister during the tournament weekend. At the time of her arrest, Bethany had been a member of the high school faculty, one of the school's mathematics teachers. As it turned out, and much to Tamara's horror to learn, Mrs. McAllister, who was a 50-year-old divorced mother of two adult sons, had been engaging in sexual conduct with students, young men who, although of legal age, were still considered "off-limits". Over the course of the last few weeks, and having interviewed several young men, upwards of a dozen as a matter of fact, Tamara had uncovered a network within the walls of Regal Bay High School that might bring other faculty members to light. As yet, Tamara had not confronted any of the newest names on her list, a list that was now up to four teachers. Separately, Tamara had a list of close to twenty young men, all seniors and "of age" as it were, who had admitted to engaging in sexual conduct with at least one, and in some cases more than one, member of the faculty. Thomas Kamp had admitted to having affairs with every one of the four on Tamara's list. He would be the key to her uncovering, and hopefully stemming off, the illegal activities going on behind the Regal Bay High scenes, before another embarrassing incident occurs.

Seeing Thomas for the third time in as many school days, Tamara understood why he could be such a draw to the female teachers of Regal Bay High. He was tall, dark complexed, with dark eyes and wavy brown hair that gave him a leading man quality. Although he was only 18, although Tamara knew that he would soon be turning 19, he carried himself with a maturity that belied his actual age. He was gifted physically, being a four-year member of the basketball and baseball teams, as well as a member of the student counsel. His carried a 4.2 GPA, and already had been accepted to Stanford, where he intended to study acting, of all things. Tamara thought he certainly had the looks for it, even as she sat looking at him.

"I really appreciate everything you've told me and done for me, Thomas," she finally told him, getting her mind back on the issue at hand.

"I'm happy to help, Mrs. Doolittle," he replied, with a smile and a voice that reminded her of Tom Selleck during his Magnum, P.I. days. She always liked Tom Selleck. He produced a small note book, of which he handed to her. "I think that's it. All of the guys in school that have enjoyed themselves with one, or more, of the teachers. At the back is a page of other guys, who aren't students here anymore, that they told me about. Guys who more or less recruited them for the teachers."

Tamara looked up from casually glancing through the notebook and asked, "Who, might I ask, recruited you, Mr. Kamp?"

He replied, "Nobody, really. I had Mrs. McAllister every year, and I guess she took a liking to me. She approached me towards the end of last year, asking about my sex life and stuff. Even though I told her I had a girl-friend, she said that she could show me some things even the girls around here wouldn't do. I told her to prove it, just kidding really. She told me about a place where she met with guys, during the school day, and I met her. She wasn't lying. Aren't many girls in this school who can suck a cock like she can." Thomas was grinning, and Tamara suddenly thought that he might even be hitting on her, to see if she would take the bait. "I'm sorry," he continued. "I didn't mean to put it like that."

"It's alright, Thomas," Tamara replied. "I've heard it all before, believe me. There isn't much you could tell me about what has been going on around here that would make me blush."

"Can I ask you a question, Mrs. Doolittle?"

Tamara leaned back in her chair and considered him a moment. "Go ahead," she told him.

Thomas's eyes, she noticed, had ran down and back up her body in that moment, before he asked his question. "Have you ever done anything like this? You know, been intimate with one of your students? Or maybe have one of them hit on you, you know, to maybe have sex?"

Tamara continued to consider Thomas, as well as his question. She couldn't believe that he might actually be asking her, in a round-about way, if she'd be open to seeing him, in the same way as he'd been seeing Bethany McAllister. "No, Mr. Kamp. I can honestly say that the idea, the thought, had never crossed my mind to engage with any student of mine. And I don't think that I've ever been the object of one of my students' fantasies, either," she added. Sliding back to her desk, she looked away from Thomas and told him, "I appreciate this list," tapping the notebook with her pen, "and I do want to reiterate that what is said here must remain confidential."

"Of course," he replied.

Tamara took a deep breath before dismissing Thomas. She found, however, that she couldn't help but admire his physique as he went through the door, leaving it open. Nor could she miss how Lynn Harris also looked at young Thomas Kamp as he passed her desk. "Lynn!" she called. "A word, please."


Tamara parked alongside another red Honda Accord in the visitor's parking lot, just inside the front gate of Regal Bay University. Further on to the South stood the gleaming white and silver building that was Regal Bay University Hospital. Although it was nearly a quarter of a mile distant, across the expanse of lawn that the students referred to as "The Fairgrounds", it looked so much closer.

Bundled up against the wind and cold that mid-December day, Tamara followed the directions she had been given to the university offices, and then on through to the individual offices, where she was to find Dr. Cynthia Price waiting in her second-floor office. "It's good to meet you, Dr. Price," Tamara said as the two women shook hands. Doctor Price was a beautiful woman a full decade younger than Tamara, who was a renowned Professor of Human Sexuality. Lynn had told her that Dr. Price had her finger on the pulse of the sex lives of most of Regal Bay's population, and if anyone could explain to her what was going in with the students and middle-aged teachers in her school, it would be Cynthia Price.

"It's nice to meet you as well, Mrs. Doolittle," Cynthia replied. "Please, come into my office and have a seat." Cynthia led the way, through the windowless outer office where an unattended desk sat, along with a trio of padded leather waiting-room style chairs, and on into her private office. "Lynn told me that you have some questions regarding the sexual goings-on here in Regal Bay," she began as she maneuvered behind her desk.

"You might say so," Tamara replied. "And please, call me Tamara. I only insist my students call me Mrs. Doolittle."

Cynthia smiled. "Alright, Tamara." She waited until her guest was seated and then Cynthia settled into her own chair. "In that case, I insist you call me Cynthia."

Tamara returned the younger woman's smile. "Cynthia. I was given to understand that you might be the foremost authority on the issues I'm facing in the high school. As I hear it, several of the young men that have come to my attention have attended, or are even currently enrolled, here at the university. Mrs. Harris..."

"Lynn," Cynthia interjected.

Tamara continued. "Yes, Lynn...she explained that I needed to meet with you and discuss this issue, before I investigate any further. She made it clear that there may be more to this entire matter than just a teacher getting caught with her student in a compromising position."

"To put it bluntly, Tamara, there is an entire world that you are scratching the surface of here in Regal Bay." Cynthia paused before continuing. "I need to know, from you, first; what are your intentions in dealing with this matter?"

Tamara was confused. "I don't understand your question. I want to clean this up, of course, before it gets out to the news media that there are more teacher/student relationships going on in my school. Believe me, I don't need this kind of grief at the start of my tenure in Regal Bay. I want it stopped before anyone else gets arrested."

"What happened to Bethany McAllister should never have happened, I can agree with you on that point. Bethany knew the rules and chose to violate them, and now she, as well as many others, are having to deal with the consequences."

"What do you mean, she knew the rules? What rules? I don't understand how she thought having sex with students, even ones of legal age, could not be a violation of rules."

Cynthia waved off her comment. "I want you to meet with someone, someone who can explain this all to you in much better, and clearer, detail than I ever could. Do you know Gloria Van Winkle?"

Tamara nodded. "Yes, of course. What could she possibly tell me about this mess?" Even as she was asking, Cynthia was dialing a number.

"Hello, yes," Cynthia spoke into the phone. "I'd like to speak with Mrs. Van Winkle, please. Tell her it is Dr. Price calling, in regards our earlier discussion." A pause. "Yes, Gloria! Good afternoon." She listened for a moment, a smile on her face. "Yes, she's here with me right now, in my office as a matter of fact." She looked at Tamara, who was shocked by the wink the younger woman. After a moment listening, Cynthia replied, "I will ask her, Ma'am. Meanwhile, you have a nice afternoon, and I'll give you a call this evening. Good-bye." She hung up the phone and gave Tamara a lengthy look. Tamara felt unnerved under the woman's gaze.

Finally, Cynthia said, "Mrs. Van Winkle would like to meet with you over drink later this evening, if you are free. I am to accompany you, as well."

"I don't drink," Tamara explained. "When would she like to meet?"


Tamara shut the engine off and sat in her car. In front of her was the green trimmed white doors to her home's garage, a separate building that sat a little behind the house itself. Her husband had all but turned the garage into his workshop, thus the two of them parked in the drive year-round. Stewart's Tundra pick-up truck wasn't in the drive, and thus he wouldn't be home. It was nearly seven o'clock and for that time of year, it was already dark.

The last two hours had been an eye-opener for Tamara. She had never thought that such a world, so full of sex and sin, could ever exist, especially in a city like Regal Bay. And yet Gloria Van Winkle, along with two other women whom she had invited to the meeting, had laid it out so plain and with such candor as to make Tamara believe that she had been wrong to ever think such things couldn't be going on all around her. Tamara wasn't all that religious, nor was she a prude by any means, and yet after walking out of the Golf Club sitting room where they had sat around in comfortable chairs, drinking fine wine, and talking so openly about mature women enjoying the sexual benefits of the willing young men of Regal Bay, Tamara felt as if she'd led such a sheltered life. She couldn't help but feel that, at 54 years of age, she might have been missing something.

Sitting in her car, Tamara recalled the elder matron, Gloria, asking, "Have you ever had an experience, a sexual encounter, with a younger man, maybe not one as young as a son or nephew mind you, but one who made you feel younger?" Until that moment, when she had been asked, Tamara had totally put away the very memory that the matron had dug up. It might have been the wine affecting her, yet Tamara felt so comfortable after hearing some of the stories the women had related to her, women she barely knew and yet had no problem opening up to her about their sinful affairs, that Tamara related her one and only story to them.

At the time, Tamara had been only 29 or 30 years old. She'd been teaching elementary school, and was one of two women who covered the fifth-grade classes at Greenbriar Elementary in Elmira, New York. She and Stewart had been married three years at that point, and their daughter, Ginger, was still just a toddler. Stewart worked a day job at one of the region's "Amish Furniture" manufacturers, even though he was far from being Amish. With both of them working day jobs, Tamara had found a day-care for little Ginger just a few blocks from their home.

As with most marriages, theirs had its ups and downs. Tamara understood after that this had been one of their lowest points during their first five years of marriage. She had been feeling the after-effects of giving birth, the "post-partum depression", and was on medications to control her bouts of depression. Tamara also began to feel unloved by her husband, as well as suspicious whenever Stewart wasn't home right at five. Later, she learned that her suspicions were baseless. Her actions during those weeks, however, she would hide from her husband behind a mascaraed of love and attention for many years.

The initial incident took place during a Saturday afternoon of straightening out the garage. Tamara been on Stewart to clear out an area of the garage so that she could store some of the Christmas decorations his family had handed down to them. It was still some months before they would be used, and the piles of boxes made it difficult to use most of the area of the garage. While she took matters into her own hands with Stewart putting in a half-day of work at the factory, Tamara had given their usual baby-sitter a call and asked her to watch Ginger while she worked in the garage.

Kristi Barnes was dropped off by her brother, Robert. Kristi was only sixteen, and though she could drive, didn't have a car of her own. Robert, whom everyone called Bucky, was twenty-one. Bucky worked for a lawn-care service, and often mowed the Doolittle's lawn, when Stewart wanted to pay to have it done. After getting Kristi situated with Ginger inside, Tamara went back out to the garage, where she found Bucky still hanging around.

"I could go ahead and mow for you, Mrs. Doolittle, since I'm already here," Bucky offered.

"You make me feel old when you call me that, Bucky," she replied. "I'm only Mrs. Doolittle at work. At home, I insist you call me Tamara." She went on to agree to a yard mowing, and using their mower, Bucky started on the yard as she turned her attention to the garage.

An hour later, Tamara had done quite a bit of work, and Bucky had finished up the yard. "I'm sorry, Bucky. But I don't have any cash on me," she explained. "You'll have to wait until Stewart gets home to get paid, or I'll give it Kristi along with her pay for the day."

"That's alright, I'm not worried about it," Bucky replied. He looked around the garage's interior and asked, "Do you want a little help in here?"

Tamara told him, "I think I'm about through in here. I've only got these cans of paint to move onto this other shelf."

"I'll get them," Bucky insisted, and started to move the six cans that Stewart had bought to re-paint the living room and dining room, and still hadn't gotten to. "Can I tell you something, Tamara?" He asked as he slipped the last can onto the shelf.

"Go ahead," she replied.

Bucky didn't ask her anything, not right away. Instead, he stepped up closer to her and placed his hands at her hips. Tamara was caught off guard and placed her hands on his chest. She felt the sweat through his black t-shirt. Bucky took her touch as a wordless acceptance of what he intended, and slipped his hands up a little, pushing the untucked flannel shirt up until his hands found her bare flesh beneath. Tamara gasped, and then asked, "What are we doing?" She turned away from him.

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