Across The Tracks

by Xyla Turner

  - They tell their children that everyone will not accept them or their family as ‘normal’, but not to let their ignorance impact how they see or view themselves or others.

  5. Readers, I will not lie. This question made me a little upset. Diluting my race is like saying ‘do not put ice in your coffee because it will dilute the coffee.’ Hello, people, what is coffee made of? WATER! We are all mixed with something. This notion of pure-breed and half-breed is just so obnoxious, I typically do not respond to ignorant statements like that. I do not believe I am ‘diluting’ my race if I were to have a child from someone who is not the same race as me. My grandmother was very light for a black woman. Her mother was even lighter, so I think it is already pretty diluted. The texture of my hair does not even remotely say it is diluted, but I am positive that we have been infiltrated at some point. Even if we were not, I still do not see the issue with this. My producing a child with the man that I love has nothing to do with race, but an offspring of our love. My producing a child with someone who is black, just because I am black is adhering to the same stigma as having a baby to keep a man. Wrong motive leading to much bigger issues.

  6. If I were to have a child, the culture that we create in our home is the same that the child would be raised in, which would be the blending of the both of us. We are two different people, raised two different ways, so for us to have a functioning relationship, it requires a blending of who we are as individuals. It would be the same with a child in the picture. Being raised black or white is not really a thing. It is the culture you are raised in that determines the mannerisms or proclivities that we adopt and play out in our lives.

  7. This one is a loaded question since I am the black woman with a white man. I know that black men have received a bad rap from black women about dating and being with white women. So, to this I think black men/white women has been more publicized. Black women/white men have usually been frowned upon by black men, but not as widely spread. I do not think one is harder than the other, but I know that a lot of white women are shunned by black women and that is not cool. Who people choose to love is none of people’s business. If that is not your thing, then fine, but do not judge people by your standards because someone will always judge you by theirs.

  8. The sex! *Dreamy Sigh* I cannot actually say or elaborate like I could, nor would I about this particular topic. Okay, one thing. Do not believe everything you hear. Now, I am done.

  Real Talk with Lisa

  The response was enormous because this article addressed a cutting edge topic and brought it down to everyone’s level. The column, ‘Real Talk with Lisa’, received rave reviews and even the local television station interviewed Lisa, where she was able to promote No Fear and NSPPF. Rich was so proud of Lisa that he framed the article to put in his home office. Prior to this, Rich had framed the first ‘bad’ article Lisa had written about him and enlarged it. Then he put all of her articles after that one around the first article. When Lisa asked him about this, he said that was the beginning of his transformation. That was a big moment, which is why he made the ‘bad’ article big and put the other contributing moments around this one. With the latest article, he enlarged it and put it next to the ‘bad’ one. He said this was another significant moment, where their relationship went full circle.

  A month later, Rich held a press conference that would not be aired until later on in the evening. This was on the same night as one of the family dinners, where Lisa had outdone herself. She cooked fried fish, baked barbecue chicken, macaroni salad, tossed salad, corn on the cob, string beans, mashed potatoes, and asparagus. Rich seemed particularly nervous that day, but she assumed it was because of the press conference that would air. He said there was some important legislation that needed to be addressed and the public needed to know about it as soon as possible. By 7 PM, dinner was ready and the house smelled like heaven. Lisa’s dad, Ms. Davis, and Josh came over, then Uncle Billy and Steven came, along with Michelle and Jessica. Rich was helping her in the kitchen, when her dad yelled, “The press conference is coming on now.”

  Everyone ran out to watch and Lisa was so impressed by Rich. He was always so anxious about being on TV, but he was a natural. He could persuade a cat to buy fur. He looked good as usual, he spoke with confidence and he came across as genuine because he actually was. Lisa had told him she did not like corrupt politicians, so the minute he became corrupt, she was out. He always kissed her and said, “Then that is something she would never have to worry about because he was not losing her over a job.”

  Rich announced that he was going to propose an increase in minimum wage and free trade school programs for convicted felons. Since we want them to be rehabilitated, but we do not provide them with the resources to make a living. Lisa loved that he could see that now. She loved even more that he was trying to do something about that problem, instead of just talking about the injustices over dinner. He would be getting something special tonight, she thought. She tuned back in to hear him announce the craziest thing on local television.

  “As most of you know, I’ve been dating a beautiful, intelligent woman who makes my heart leap. Almost four years ago, she wrote an article blasting me for my poor practices that impacted our community. I have enlarged that article and it is now on my home office wall, as a reminder of the wake-up call she brought to me that day. A month ago, she wrote another article addressing an issue that impacts us both but professed her undying love for me in a public way again. If you know her, you know she’s a force to be reckoned with, but if you love her, you know she gives her all and won’t settle for less. She’s a fighter and a lover. I’m not sure how I got so damn lucky and I can’t believe she chose me. God knows I don’t deserve her, but I’m not letting her go. She is my life.” Rich paused as if he was getting emotional. “She’s everything to me, even when those who are supposed to love me, turned their backs on me. She has been there to uplift me, encourage me and fulfill me. She claims me, I claim her – she’s mine and now, I want to make her mine, officially.” People murmured in awe as Rich pulls something out of his pocket.

  “Lisa, will you marry me?” Rich asked on TV.

  Lisa was watching the television with her mouth wide open. She had not registered what was actually taking place. She just stared at Rich on the television, holding up a ring while the cameras and reporters were firing questions at him until her dad said, “Lisa, what do you say?”

  She turned to look at her dad and asked, “What?”

  He repeated, but jerked his head towards the left, “What do you say?”

  Lisa looked to where he jerked, turned around and saw Rich on one knee with the same box he had on TV in his hands. She gasped while touching her mouth with her fingertips and chest with her palm.

  “Will you marry me?” Rich asked.

  “Are you serious, Rich?” Lisa asked.

  “Of course he serious darling, he asked you on TV, can’t get no more serious than that,” Uncle Billy chimed.

  “Uh, uh…” Lisa mumbled.

  “We fit in every way, Lisa. We are perfect for each other. Make me a whole man, officially. Baby, marry me.”

  “Y-yes, Rich. Of course,” Lisa exclaimed while the rest of the family yelled and cheered.

  Rich got up, put the engagement ring on her finger and pulled her in for a long kiss.

  After a couple of minutes of them kissing, Uncle Billy cleared his throat and then he coughed/choked out, “Let’s eat - today.”

  They pulled apart while Michelle and Jessica brought the food out so everyone could eat. The evening seemed to go by quickly as people ate and left, assuming that the newly engaged couple wanted to be alone. Probably because Rich was trying to wrap up their dinner only 10 minutes after she said yes. He really did have some assholish ways. That did not change, that was for sure.

  Lisa could not believe that he actually proposed on television. He said it was because she always had a grand way of doing things. Stealing the ball and scoring on
him in public, calling him out on his bad law practices in public and then professing her love for him in public – he had to do something. Thus, it had to be public. Lisa thought that was funny and she knew exactly what she had to do that night. Afterward, they made love all night until they both were passed out on the floor.

  The next morning, Lisa was awakened by Rich yelling at the front door. He came to the bedroom with the paper in his hands and a chagrined look on his face. “Really, Lisa. You just had to do it, didn’t you?”

  She bit back her smile and asked, “Huh?”

  He held up the Philadelphia Daily Newspaper with a picture of her engagement ring on her hand and in big, bold white letters, it read: She said YES!

  THE END

  Thank you for reading Across the Tracks. I hope you enjoyed Rich and Liz’s story. My first time falling in love with the concept of interracial romance was in the movie, A Bronx Tale. I was a teenager and I will never forget how much this film stayed with me because I wanted the most unlikely couples at that time to be together. Two different people from across the tracks, trying to figure out that thing called love. People that have been or are in interracial or intercultural relationships can attest to having to deal with their own internal biases or conflicts before they can deal with the external. That is why I wanted to write this book. To address some of those issues and reiterate that it is possible to overcome.

  If you follow me, you know that I like series. Therefore, be on the lookout for Josh, Jessica and Michelle’s stories.

  Thanks again!

  Keep reading to get a sneak peek of Power of the Pen - Pre-Order Here.

  Power of the Pen (Sneak Peek)

  Chapter 1: Drinks on Me

  “Bitch,” I exclaim, wiping the salty Martini from my face.

  Footsteps started to retreat, as I tried to wipe my stinging eyes free of the drink I would never conceive of ordering, yet alone drinking. Women drank what I order them. Period.

  Nobody must have seen the showdown because the music was still playing, people were still laughing and talking loudly and the bartender’s machines were still running. The Ember Lounge, known as ‘The Em’ was a bar/lounge that usually held professional lawyers, doctors or businessmen, and women. Probably because that was the only people that lived in Bowie, Maryland. This section was often referred to as ‘Bougie’, Maryland. Most African-American professionals lived out here, about forty minutes from Washington, D.C. and ten or more minutes from any resemblance of downtown Bowie. That still doesn't explain why I'm here since I'm white or as my colleagues say ‘Caucasian.’

  A wet napkin was placed in my hand, which was now covered with the drink. The softness of the cloth-like napkin soothed my eyes tremendously. Once I was able to open them, I saw Yasmine looking at me with a smirk on her face.

  “Someone you know, I gather,” Yasmine asked, showing her card.

  Jealousy.

  “Actually,” I raise an eyebrow at her, “I have no idea who that woman was.”

  It was evident that Yasmine was playing it cool because she and I were just fucking. However, I could perceive there was something off about her now. My hand raised to get the bartenders attention.

  “Closing out, boss.” He asked.

  “Yes,” sliding my card to him.

  “Be right back.”

  Yasmine looked away from me as if she was embarrassed. Shit, I’m the one that should be embarrassed since I smelled like olives, lemon, and liquor. This is why we would only be ‘just fucking’. Due to her attitude, I was no longer in the fucking mood.

  The bartender returned my card and as I put it back in my wallet, I said, “I’m headed home, alone.”

  Yasmine blinked at me, “Why, I thought we were hooking up tonight,” she replied with a small voice.

  “Not in the mood.”

  “Awe, come on Z,” she whined, “it’s just a drink and the bonus is, I can lick it off of you.”

  While the thought of her using that naughty tongue intrigued my dick, my head would not let that happen. A random woman that I have never seen before just came up to me and threw her Martini in my face. There was no words exchanged, no fighting or nothing. When I finally open my eyes, the woman I am here with is smirking at me. Not that I want a woman fighting over me, I do not go for childish, petty women, but do something instead of looking at me like I deserved it.

  Stuffing my wallet in my pants pocket, I headed towards the door without another word. Her footsteps were behind me, so I guess she thought that I was not serious.

  The cold wind swept across my face as fall made its exit and winter entered in with a bang. My jacket was in the truck on the other side of the parking lot. Not that The Em was crowded at seven in the evening, but because I did not want anyone that had too much to drink to throw up on or near my car. Nor try to have sex in the bed of my truck or scrape it on the way out of the lot. All of these things have happened before, so I was not making it up.

  My Chevy Silverado was only a year old, but my last truck had seen plenty of things and I was not even a participant in most of the events. I had that truck for 14 years, my sweet Olivia was her name and while, my current baby, Lola, is new and shiny, she has nothing on my Liv. Well, besides heated seats, automatic locks, doors, keyless entry, sunroof, electronic everything, a navigation system, Bluetooth and a bunch of other shit the dealer tried to sell to me. As a non-tech savvy individual, the ride felt nice, so that is why I bought the truck. Standing at six feet, four inches, it was big enough for me to be in and not look like a clown car and small enough that I didn’t look like I did not belong in it. Just some insight on why men buy cars.

  “Wait up,” Yasmine called after me because I was half-way across the parking lot.

  “Not in the mood,” I repeated through my teeth.

  She caught up to me, grabbing my arm, which I jerked away from her.

  “What did I do?” her pace slowed, as the clit-clat of her high heels were not as rapid.

  “Nothing, is what you did,” I noted with purposeful indifference in my voice.

  Lola was a few feet away now, I turned with my hands in the air, backing up towards my car.

  “Zeeee,” she moaned, “I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you.”

  What was her deal? We had only been together for a month and a half now. She approached me at my table, where I was signing autographs. Yasmine, however, did not only give me a book to sign but bent down with her blouse and bra undone. Displaying her surgically altered breast, then directed that I should put my phone and room number under my signature. I am a single male, in a city that I know not of. She was a willing participant of what would help me distress, so I was okay with putting my number and room number in her book.

  Her lips pouted when she moaned her nickname for me again. “Zeee,” she sashayed over to me as I leaned on the truck.

  “Yasmine,” I forcefully bit out, “I’m not in the fucking mood.”

  “Not according to my friend,” she pointed to the bulge in my pants.

  Damn.

  When she reached me, her body leaned into mine, slowly sliding herself down so that her knees were bent, her ass was resting on her ankles and hands were unzipping my pants. Yes, in the parking lot. The woman was fearless and I would not stop her because I did need a release.

  “Let Yassy make it all better,” Yasmine purred to my dick.

  She pulled down my tailored pants, slipping her hands into my black briefs. My fists tightened at the sides of my body because I knew what I was about to get. The woman had a talented mouth. Looking down, her ass bounced around while she balanced her weight on her heels. Fucking genius. She pulled me out, to lick around the head.

  Oh.

  Yasmine did not wait long to take me, as I did not wait long to wrap her hair around my head to guide her willing mouth. She kept trying to deep throat me, every chance she got, which showed initiative, but I just wanted her to suck right now. Her moan spurred me on as I bent to see exactly ho
w much of her mouth I filled. Size was never a problem because if anything I was too big, but Yasmine had a big mouth, and she knew how to use it. Her whole mouth was full of me. She looked up with a ‘seeking approval look’ in her eyes, but she would not get any of that from me. She was warned that I was not in the mood. Therefore, me holding her head down, so she could take more of me was all she’d get tonight.

  My haze was broken, when I saw movement in a car. A woman’s head emerged from somewhere in the car and she was looking directly at Yasmine and me. She was in the driver’s seat with her hands on the steering wheel, as if she was ready to leave. Her mouth was open, her cheeks were flushed and she looked like she belonged on the cover of Ebony Magazine with her medium-sized afro.

  Her car was one row over and three cards down, facing our direction. We were in her direct line of sight. Sitting in a fairly new Land Rover, she was high enough to see everything. Yet, she made no faces, no move to leave, just watched with her lips slightly open. It was turning me on and I was close so there would be no stopping.

  Yasmine could feel my excitement because she started bobbing her head vigorously while bouncing her ass. My eyes were on the brown beauty in the car, but I could feel her movement. The woman must have realized I was staring at her because her eyes locked with mine.

  “That’s right,” I whispered.

  Yasmine moaned, causing all sorts of vibrations to go through my body.

  “Yes, yes,” my mouth summered the response.

  Her eyes still locked on mine. I took control of Yasmine bobbing, by pulling her hair until she stopped. My cock stroked into her mouth until I hit the back of her throat; all while watching the woman watch me. She knew I was getting off to her watching me because her mouth dropped open further. She was not scandalized or appalled, I would have bet my advance money, that her pussy was wet, her nipples hard and her body was on fire, just from watching.