Read Tripping on Tears for Free Online

she asked.
    “I’m a fan.”
    She just smiled.
    “Did you buy it? It might surprise you.”
    “It would seem to me that one of the perks of dating a published author is you wouldn’t have to buy his book; he’d give you a complimentary copy.”
    “And there goes another royalty down the drain.”
     
    The conversation was good. As for the bistro and its food, it really didn’t matter. I could have been eating Chicken McNuggets for all I knew, I was so engrossed in our conversation and the act of getting to know one another.
     
    “I wasn’t sure you were interested in me. I thought your coming to Koffee Krisp was just a daily ritual of yours. Others were telling me differently, but you never seemed to make a move, even when given the opportunity.”
    “The story of my life, unfortunately; although I must say, your move was bold, swift and to the point.”
    Safia laughed. “You have no idea how scared I was.”
    “You didn’t show it.”
    “I’ve never asked a man out in my life; or been that bold with a man in my life. In my world, a woman just doesn’t do a thing like that. It would be scandalous; unheard of.”
    “And what world is that?” I asked.
    Safia just looked at me, smiling.
    “You have noticed that we’re different, haven’t you?”
    “Sure, you’re a woman and I’m a man; that’s a strong factor in favor of this date. One of the things I liked about you from the start.”
    “You know what I mean,” she said.
    I couldn’t help just staring into her dark brown eyes. We were different; that was obvious, but irrelevant. Frustrated with my lack of response, Safia continued.
    “I’m brown and you’re white. I’m Pakistani. Is that going to be a problem?” she asked.
    “Only if you have something against pasty white English-Irish blokes,” I joked.
    She didn’t laugh; she was serious.
    “Not everyone is so accepting, especially in this day and age,” she said.
    Now, I couldn’t help laughing. “If the color of your skin, versus the color of my skin was going to be a factor, I wouldn’t be here. We’re in the 21 st Century, should skin color even be a factor to anyone anymore? Isn’t that kind of thinking dated?”
    “You’d be surprised,” she replied. “English, Irish. So, what does that make you? Catholic? Protestant? Christian?”
    “It makes me confused and often conflicted with myself. But, no, my family’s Christian. And you?”
    She seemed a little hesitant.
    “Muslim,” she finally said.
    Certain words carry a strength and impact about them. The word Muslim was one of those words of late, although, at that point in time, I didn’t truly understand why. I just knew that within the media there was a lot of reporting about the Muslim faith and not all of it favorable. I was being silly and stupid for thinking that way, but if I’m going to be honest here, it did carry a weight to it.
    “You look like I just said a dirty word,” she said.
    Safia was staring intently at me.
    “I apologize. Of course not, don’t be silly.”
    “My Dad and Mom are Muslim,” she said. “My older sister, younger brother and I, were brought up Muslim. I remember reciting passages from the Koran as a young girl; the proud look on my father’s face as I did so. Funny thing is I couldn’t do that now; I seemed to have forgotten it all.”
    “Are you practicing?” I asked.
    “I respect my parent’s beliefs, but, I don’t know, I guess I haven’t fully embraced them myself. I’m still finding my way spiritually. Have you ever dated a Muslim girl before?”
    “I can’t say that I have.”
    “Does it make a difference to you?”
    A good question and one I’d never thought of before. The world had changed from the days of my parents and my grandparents. In their day, well, more my grandparent’s day, you looked around and saw a lot of white faces around you. There were people of other nationalities, but they were few and far between. You were more likely to run into another