catching your heart | discontinued.

The name itself caused an irregular throbbing in my heart ...

Chapter 1: The name itself caused an irregular throbbing in my heart...

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Melbourne has a reputation for its changeable weather, often referred to as having 'four seasons in one day'. Generally the city enjoys a temperate climate with warm to hot summers; mild, temperate springs and autumns; and cool winters.

The present weather hinted you about the onset of monsoons, just the way I loved it. There's no better way than enjoying a cup of macchiato on your grand terrace, listening to Beatles in your iPod when the cool wind blows across your face while the dark clouds whirled over your head. Leaving the part that I couldn't afford an iPod. Or a cup of macchiato for that matter.

However thanks to global warming, the scorching sun makes you feel that you'll melt if you go out of the house while the wind that blows is as if someone is blowing their hair dryer all around you. The noons are the worst when you feel as if you're stuffed into a steamer. Nights are occasionally pleasant accompanied with a cool breeze here.

I looked at the giant grandfather's clock in the living room which clocked 7:45 in the evening. He'd be home any minute from office now. My knees were going weak but I focussed myself into preparing his tea and snacks.

I mentally warned myself not to be late like yesterday and felt my throat parched just thinking about the situation if I'm late again. The kitchen is a place I spent more time in rather than our bedroom. By seventeen years, I had known every nook and cranny by heart. Chris often laughs that I can work in a kitchen with my eyes blindfolded for days without much of a fuss.

No sooner than I took out the croissants from the oven, the kitchen air filled with the faded sweet aroma of them. Keeping two on a plate, I kept the kettle of tea adjacent to the plate in the tray and straightened my dress. There, I'm done.

"And Australia's got to make six runs and just two balls left..." I could hear the sound of the television from the kitchen. It was a crucial match between Australia and South Africa which would pave Australia's way to the finals.

"Chris, lower down the volume! Your dad will be home any minute. Can't you just lower down the volume a little bit?"

Nothing.

Chris is my fifteen year old son. As you can probably guess he's very much into cricket. In this family I think he's the one who understands me the most. However he paid little attention to what I said and continued panicking and cheering for the team.

If there is something he solely gives his heart in, that is cricket. He gets up early every morning to practice and exercise and is extremely self conscious. He is hardly anything like his father, maybe he is a bit introvert but he takes care of people who mean a lot to him.

When I came to the living room I couldn't stop grinning at his jejune credulity. He was clapping frantically as Australia hit a six at the last ball! There are little things as enjoyable and satisfying as watching your kid happy.

At least someone here is.

"See mom, he did it again! That's why he's my favourite. Caleb Dawson is my role model! The way he hit the last ball was amazing!! You should've seen it mom!"

The name itself caused an irregular throbbing of my heart but not taking notice of it I told him smiling, "I know he is... You practically have a guy crush on him."

"Hey!"

I laughed and sat beside him on the comfy couch. Tearing a croissant into two pieces I gave him one and he welcomed my gesture gladly. I had the other half before plopping onto the couch, my feet on the front tea table. Being a mother and a wife is definitely not easy. The whole day of twenty four long hours feels short. I rested my head at the back of the couch and had just closed my eyes when he began.