Normal or Nothing Like It

By Wayne Tunks

40 isn’t the time for a mid-life crisis. In these sixteen interwoven short stories, we meet a group of 40-year-olds learning to deal with the things life throws at them while trying to juggle their jobs, family and personal connections. Trying to finally be their true selves and discovering if they are normal or nothing like it.
There’s Teresa, a woman trying to deny that she is turning 40, and her brother, Max, who’s in denial that his family is living beyond their means. May is trying to find love again while still not over her ex and Blake is either meeting the man of his dreams or his nightmares. Then there is Lenore, who is trying to decide if she loves or hates her husband, while Brian can’t believe he’s raised a son capable of committing a crime. These are stories of love, hope, loss and the inexplicable feeling that everyone who said your life should be settled at 40 was lying.
This is the debut novel for award winning screenwriter and playwright, Wayne Tunks. Besides getting older, 40 can’t be all too bad, can it?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tellwell Talent
• Release date: Jul 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9781922542984

Wayne Tunks

Wayne Tunks is an award-winning filmmaker, playwright, and screenwriter with a love of pop culture, coffee and Madonna. His web series, “After Nightfall”, has won awards worldwide and has been writing and producing plays for over 20 years. He is a former storyliner for TV’s, “Neighbours” and as an actor has appeared in some things you’d recognise and some you’ve never heard of. His most recent short film, “Overcaterers Anonymous”, is currently screening in film festivals worldwide and in 2021, he became the breakfast announcer on 80s radio station, My88FM.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE:

TERESA

Teresa looked up from her tiny cubicle and sighed. She had worked in this fluorescent-lit office for five years and today was the first time she felt a sense of disdain, a sense of emptiness. She’d never noticed how many shades of white littered the twentieth-floor office, and how each and every shade made her feel uneasy. She also began to resent her view: a dirty alley. The people on the other side had views of the Sydney Harbour Bridge; she could look down to the street and only see the smokers and the garbage bins. She paused from her work and looked around. She watched her workmates and realised she didn’t even really like them. Harrison was just 21 and had only recently completed a degree, but he loved to talk down to everyone like he was the expert. Gail was an undescribed age but had two granddaughters, that’s all she would talk about, and seemed to have new photos of them every day. Then there was Simone, the EA to the boss. Simone was a clock watcher. She wouldn’t say anything, but if you were even a few seconds late, she would repeatedly look at the clock and then look back at you, passive aggressively, with an expression that made Teresa unreasonably angry just picturing it.

Teresa looked at her monitor; the numbers all seemed to jumble together. She could just see her reflection and leaned forward to check out the bags under her eyes. She looked at her green eyes, usually her favourite feature, but today they looked dull. Dull, and a little dead inside.

Yesterday she was fine. She could bear Harrison, she complimented Gail on a photo and made small talk with Simone at the coffee cart. But today was different, today was her 40th birthday, and Teresa was not taking it well. Many of her friends had freaked out over 30, but she enjoyed it. She was married to an incredible man and had the sweetest four-year-old. Flash forward ten years and the incredible man had turned into a cheater and her son had become a moody and petulant teen. Ten years ago, she lived in her dream home; now she was renting a shabby two-bedroom house with barely functioning hot water and even worst neighbours. Plus, she felt like her body was giving out on her. For many years she loved her body, she barely had to work out to keep her flat stomach, but now if she even looked sideways at chocolate, she’d gain a kilo. Friends would say, You look great for your age, and she hated it. Why did they need to say, For your age? Even her mousey brown hair had begun to grey, and she really couldn’t afford the number of trips she needed to go to the hairdresser to fix it properly. She was miserable and certainly didn’t want to celebrate her birthday.

She had mentioned nothing to no one and was relieved her son, Cooper, had seemed to forget, only grunting something about school as he slinked out the door. Her parents were overseas, so she would only have to endure the usual pleasantries in a two-minute call when they would ring from Scotland. Her work loved a bad cake and awkward singing, but she was relieved the usual 3pm cake time had passed without a word.

It was 4.45pm, and fifteen minutes before she could make her dash to the train. Simone would stare at her, daring her to leave right on time, but Teresa didn’t care. She had plans, important plans.

Cooper would be spending the night with his father and his insipid and idiotic new bride. Teresa was going to order a family-sized pizza and would down a whole bottle of French bubbly, hopefully passing out at nine and waking when it was all over.

Teresa watched the clock, and kept watching. Gail was walking her way with a phone in her hand and a goofy smile, and no doubt another photo of her grandchildren. Teresa quickly placed the phone to her ear and pretended to talk. Gail passed her. 4.47pm. The hands seemed to be going extra slow. 4.48pm. Before she could reach the phone again, Harrison was at her desk. He smiled; she could tell he was about to get extra patronising.

Teresa, hi. He smiled, showing his perfectly white teeth. Teresa wanted to punch him. I just got your 508 form. The smile got bigger, so did Teresa’s anger. Yeah, that’s the wrong form, you needed a 509 for the client. I won’t tell anyone about this time, but I filled it in for you this time, so let’s not make a habit of it, yeah?

Harrison smiled again, and Teresa took hold of the company logoed stress ball on her table and squeezed so hard she thought it might burst. Harrison smiled triumphantly again and left. She thought even his walk seemed smug.

4.51pm — how the hell was it only 4.51pm? Teresa thought about opening Facebook. She had never displayed her birthdate, but she was worried someone had still posted something, which would lead to others posting about this dreaded day. Instead, Teresa watched the second hand move at slow speed.

At 4.55pm, she couldn’t stand it anymore and grabbed her handbag and started to head for the door. She could feel Simone’s eyes burning into the back of her head. She turned and Simone was looking directly at her. One eyebrow raised as she looked at the clock and back again at Teresa.

Teresa gave a smile more like a grimace and was out the door. Simone would stare at her all day tomorrow, but Teresa didn’t care about that now. The air-conditioned office felt stifling.

The train home was crowded, and the air-con seemed to be on the fritz, plus there was a guy standing in front of her who’s smell reminded her of a garbage tip in summer combined with a bargain store pine-scented car deodoriser; it almost made her heave. The worst part, a young man had asked if she wanted a seat. Yes, of course she wanted a seat, but today she bluntly refused because she suddenly felt like a nana. He seemed scared by her blunt refusal.

She put in her headset to try and block out the world. If Belinda Carlisle couldn’t get her through the day, no one could. She heard the light running of horses, and Belinda began to sing, Can’t sleep tonight. She closed her eyes, and Runaway Horses gave her the first piece of serenity for the day. The train suddenly jolted, and the smelly man fell back onto her and she fell onto the dirty floor. The young man who offered her the seat laughed loudly, and she was now covered in the smelly man’s stink. It felt the day was conspiring against her.

Teresa finally climbed the stairs at Summer Hill train station and was excited for the small walk home. She desperately wanted to shower and lose the smell that now imbodied her. She also thought she may have to burn her clothes.

She opened her front gate without checking her letterbox, in case it was filled with birthday cards. She grabbed her keys from her bag, opened the door and walked inside. She was finally free and alone. She kicked off the heels she hated and walked into the lounge room, knowing she would have a Moet buzz within minutes.

She turned on the lights and before she knew what was happening, the room was full of people jumping and screaming, Happy Birthday. All of her friends were there, plus her son, Cooper, and her ex, Rod, and his new bimbo, Lina. Everyone was smiling, blowing party whistles and releasing poppers. They all looked at her and the room went momentarily quiet. With all those eyes watching her, she burst into tears. Teresa sobbed.

The party was now quiet. The lounge room was filled with bodies, booze, balloons and silence. The buzz and excitement had been replaced by an emptiness. Teresa sat on her bed and wept. Her two friends, Veronica and Lenore, sat on either side of her, trying to comfort her, but the tears wouldn’t stop. Both ladies were also over 40 but had taken it better than Teresa. Veronica was the earth mother of the group. Her female friends envied how easy parenthood was for her. She was a former actress who had taken to tarot reading. Her vibe was very Stevie Nicks, bo-ho chic. She had beautifully piercing brown eyes and had felt so refreshed when she’d recently died her hair silver.

Lenore was also a great Mum but felt like a bad wife. She and her husband, Dave, were barely speaking, and she didn’t care. She was so keen for a random Wednesday night party, but she completely understood Teresa’s tears. Lenore had always prided herself on her body, but motherhood was hard and even though she walked and did Zumba, she had gained 10kgs. Everyone told her she looked great, but she didn’t believe them.

Veronica and Lenore shared a pained look, they weren’t quite sure what to do. They wanted to help; they just didn’t know how. The door burst open and suddenly the room was filled with the big personality of Blake. Blake was a few years past 40 and was a larger-than-life gay man. He’d battled with weight issues most of his life and fit most comfortably into the bear sub-culture of the gay community. He was an actor and filmmaker with varying degrees of success. He was a divisive soul who was fiercely loyal and empathetic.

Today Blake was carrying a bottle of Moet in one hand and a champagne glass in the other. He smiled at Teresa; he was good at getting his own way, and today he was going to make her enjoy this party. Plus, he felt guilty. Cooper had asked him to help organise the party, and as per usual, he’d gone overboard.

Teresa looked up, her makeup a mess. Her eyeliner hadn’t looked this bad since her goth faze at fourteen. Blake thrust a glass of Moet forward and said, Drink. Without even thinking, Teresa obeyed. She pressed the crystal to her lips and drank. Before long the glass was empty, and Veronica and Blake shared a wry smile. Teresa pushed the glass forward and without asking, Blake filled the glass again. It wasn’t long before the second glass had disappeared, as had Teresa’s tears.

I have gone to a lot of trouble organising this party. And your son made your ex pay, so we will go out there and you will have the best time ever. Blake was firm, but kind.

Veronica and Lenore looked hopefully at Teresa. She was carefully processing what to do. Teresa thought, a party sounded good, but so did wallowing in self-pity. She looked at Blake. Well, if my ex paid, I should drink a LOT of expensive champagne.

Blake smiled, as did the other two ladies. Teresa stood quickly and then nearly fell forward. She was lucky Blake was standing in front of her, steadying her. She was already a little buzzed, and that made her happy.

Before you go. Veronica smiled. We should probably fix that makeup.

Teresa turned to the mirror and screamed. Makeup it was.

Before long, Teresa was out in the party and was actually having a good time. The champagne helped, as did her wonderful friends. Together they’d booked her a deluxe spa weekend, and she thought it was the most perfect present ever. Even if the present made her feel old.

Music was also helping. Blake was known for his playlists and had tailored one perfectly for Teresa. She even screamed with excitement as Belinda Carlisle’s, Heaven is a Place on Earth started blaring through the speakers. With her best friends around her, she danced. She closed her eyes, put her hands in the air and sang, losing herself in her favourite song of all time. She felt free, and for the first time, she felt okay with 40. Tomorrow she knew she’d have the worst hangover and would have to work, but tonight, she was drunk, and she was loved. Two of her favourite things.

CHAPTER TWO:

MAX

Max always held his breath when he opened the letterbox. It seemed like every day there was a new bill. He recognised the logo of his local council: council rates. He sighed; he couldn’t afford these.

On paper, Max looked like he had it all. He was married, happily, had three amazing children, a good job and a house that everyone admired. Max had only recently turned 42 and really thought he would have it all together by now. He was a pretty good-looking guy. Not as thin as he was when he was younger, but beer was tasty. But he liked that ladies still turned their heads as he walked by. He occasionally went for a run and loved to swim in summer. Even though his daughter, Imogen, told him he shouldn’t wear Speedos anymore. He had brown hair that was sprinkled with a little grey. His wife, Kate, resented that he was able to pull grey hair off so well.

Max’s job was good, but he had long lost joy in it. He was the head of HR at a big insurance firm. It was a good job; he was just over it. His family was the light of his life. He had met Kate at a friend’s wedding nineteen years ago. Their friends had long since divorced, but he and Kate were still going strong. They married three years after they met, and soon had their three children: Imogen, Trent and Luke.

Everything was great until they bought their dream house, that damn house. Max knew they couldn’t afford it, and Kate knew they couldn’t afford it, but they still bought it. The first time they saw the house, they fell in love. The family living there seemed like the cookie-cutter dream family, and the pair both wanted to live that life. They would often look on with jealousy when they would drive past it; it was aspirational. Then it went on the market. They went to check it out on a whim. The children had instantly loved it. The boys would finally get their own rooms, and there was a media room with a massive screen and a pool. Max did love to swim after all.

Max and Kate desperately looked for reasons to not buy the house, but surprisingly, everyone encouraged them to jump beyond their means. Both sets of parents said they should do it, and the bank said they would give them the extra money. Plus, the kids kept planning all the amazing things they would do. They were still convinced they wouldn’t buy the house but thought they’d go to the auction to just see how much it was going for. It was here it all went wrong. They should have left the kids at home; they probably shouldn’t have even gone. But they did and they got caught up in the hype. Bidding started slow, so Kate nudged Max with a wry smile. Imogen backed her up with a, Go on Dad, and next thing he knew, he had bid. But he didn’t stop. Once he started, he wanted to beat the other couple with the twins who looked as annoying as hell. Six-year-old girls in their pristine, identical dresses had poked out their tongue at his sons, and their dad had laughed. Caught up in the momentum, Max wanted to beat this family and prove he was supreme.

The auction amount slid past the money they were willing to spend and kept going. Kate was nervous; the kids were having a great time and the man with the rude twins knew he couldn’t compete. Stopped by his wife, he made no more bids and the house belonged to Max and Kate. Well, owned by the bank until they made enough payments, which at this rate was never going to happen.

They’d been in the house for three years now and yes, they’d had some amazing times. The kids loved the house. The pool was always in use in summer, and the boys spent a little too much time in the media room. They’d had some amazing parties as well, they loved to entertain and especially loved it when they were complimented on the house. Max would smile, and in those moments it was worth it.

Kate was preparing dinner as Max walked into the kitchen. When Max cooked, it was usually elaborate affairs that took hours of preparation, whereas Kate was the master of the quick and tasty. Her stir-fry smelt divine, but Max couldn’t concentrate on that, as he was consumed with thinking about how they were going to pay another bill. For a moment, he stopped and looked at her. He was still in love with her and still found her so attractive. She looked a little dishevelled after work and had dropped some soy sauce on her once crisp white blouse. The grey hairs were really poking through, and he knew she’d be dying it back to blonde again soon, but he liked it as it was. She may have wrinkles and the bags under her eyes were heavier, but she was still the woman he fell in love with, and he loved her. She was the Gina to his Tommy, and Living on a Prayer had always been their favourite song, the irony was not lost on him.

Kate smiled at him as he walked into the kitchen, but her smile disappeared when Max threw down the bill; his face giving away the massive amount. Kate sighed and grabbed a note sitting on the bench; it was from the school.

School camps coming up, and it seems to have doubled in price since last year. Kate placed it down before Max, who sat down at the stool at the kitchen bench, the weight of his troubles pushing him down.

Camp, for who? asked Max with a sense of dread.

Both boys. They’re doing a combined year five and year six camp this year, Kate told Max, knowing this could put him in a tailspin for the night. She slept next to him; she could feel the tension radiating next to her every night. And whenever she woke, no matter the time of night, she knew he was awake. He was not sleeping properly, and she was worried. Worried about the house, but mostly for her husband, because she knew if they lost the house, it’d break him.

Max breathed in slowly, tears welled in his eyes, but he fought them; he didn’t want to let Kate see him cry. He carefully picked up the note, fighting the urge to just rip it up. He knew he couldn’t deny his boys; he didn’t want them to suffer because he was bad at managing money. In Max’s mind, this was all his fault. He was the reason they may lose the house. He read the note and was genuinely shocked when he saw it was $450 per student, catching his breath for a moment.

$450 per student, are they kidding? asked Max rhetorically.

I know, but how can we say no?

The pair stared at each other, they both were thinking the same thing and neither felt the need to talk anymore. The stir-fry began to bubble and needed to be turned down, but neither of them moved.

Suddenly the tension was broken as their youngest, Luke, ran through the door. He was excited carrying in a catalogue. His birthday was coming, and he was more than a little excited. Luke was a kid full of energy. He loved sports, playing soccer and cricket, both of which were expensive. He had his mother’s blonde hair, a face full of freckles and a contagious smile that was hard to say no to. He thrust the catalogue forward to his father, and Max could now see it was for a big toy sale. He could also see that loads of expensive toys had been circled with thick purple texta.

It’s my birthday in a few weeks and this is what I want, said Luke, making sure his father had the catalogue in his hands.

Max turned the pages. If he wasn’t so worried about money, he probably would have laughed; it seemed that every second toy had been circled. And it wasn’t