might. I don’t know. I might look for my own place.
We’ll see.
They’re all here for the TV show: Laine, Art and
Penny, Ma and Kiana. The only thing that would make
it perfect for me was if you were here, too.
Here’s hoping you’ll make it home by Christmas . . .
Be careful out there,
Audra
“What’s going on with your face?” Shamiyah
asked, peering at Audra.
Hours in the tanning bed, Audra almost replied, but
she bit her lips at her recent efforts to increase her
sun exposure.
“I’ve had a reaction to the hydroquinone,” Audra
lied.
Shamiyah’s brow furrowed in consternation as
she studied the dark brown patches of skin along
Audra’s jaw and cheeks. “This is terrible. Just terri-
ble. We’ve got to get you to Dr. Jamison—”
“I’ve already spoken to him,” Audra said, truth-
fully enough, omitting the part about how she’d
called to ask him his advice on the fastest way to re-
verse the skin lightening process or mention of his
eagerness to assist, provided she did not reveal his
role. “He sent me some medicine, but I’ve had to
wear more makeup to cover the worst of it.”
The worst of it. As she had feared, Audra’s skin
had started to transition, but not into an even brown
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Karyn Langhorne
or beige or any other color in between. Instead, it
was a mottled mess of blotches: part light, part dark,
part in between. The effect was a patchwork of col-
ors that hardly looked camera-ready. Audra and her
mother had spent a good deal of time coming up
with a foundation that would conceal it, but the re-
sult was a thick powdery mess in the style of the old
pancake makeup worn by the grand divas of the
forties. The kind of makeup that looked utterly un-
natural anywhere but on a soundstage.
She would need it for all of her encounters with
Ugly Duckling people, right up until the dress re-
hearsal, if there was going to be a second “Big Re-
veal.”
“Okay, okay,” Shamiyah said quickly, hustling
Audra toward the airport exit. “It looks funny in
person, but on camera it’ll probably be fine.”
Audra stopped short.
“What?” Shamiyah asked impatiently. “I’ve got a
car waiting right out front—”
“You don’t expect me to go without my luggage
do you—and my entourage?” She pointed to where
Edith and Kiana stood, watching the metal wheel
for their bags. As a familiar piece of luggage made
its way slowly around the concourse, Art Bradshaw
leaned over to hoist it easily onto a cart held tightly
in place by his daughter. As if feeling their eyes,
Edith turned, shooting Shamiyah an evil glare and
an even more evil hand gesture.
“W—what’s all this?” Shamiyah stuttered, her
eyes widening with shock. “Really Audra,” she con-
tinued, recovering some of her careless attitude, “I
remember when you traveled with a toothbrush and
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359
a spare pair of panties! I told you not more than two
guests could join you for the Big Reveal—”
Audra shrugged. “And I told you, Shamiyah, if
you want me, you get them. We don’t mind bunking
up together. We’re family.”
Shamiyah’s brown eyes narrowed slightly and
Audra read her suspicions in her face.
“Look, Audra,” she hissed. “Like I’ve told you a
thousand times, you signed the papers. If you’re still
mad about how you came off on the show—”
“I’m not mad,” Audra said sweetly. “I just
brought my family out to California for a little R and
R, that’s all.”
“But you’re here to work. The live show is in two
days! We don’t have time for—”
“Then do what I asked you to do and get their
Disney passes,” Audra told her in a steely voice that
would have made the late, great Joan Crawford
proud. “You won’t have to see Art and the girls
again until the Big Reveal. Ma’s going to help me
with a few things.”
Shamiyah’s eyes strayed back to Edith, who was
still mad-dogging her with determination. “This is
just great,” she muttered under her breath. “You’re
not listening to me, Audra,” she said when she
could tear her eyes away from Edith’s scowling face.
“They don’t have tickets for the Big Reveal. There’s
no room for them.”
“Kiana can sit on Art’s lap—she doesn’t need a
ticket,” Audra said, pretending for Shamiyah’s sake
to care about the effects of the sun on her delicate
skin by wrapping a scarf around her neck and face.
“And Ma’s helping me with my Reveal.”
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Karyn Langhorne
“Since when were you two close?” Shamiyah de-
manded.
“Since always,” Audra snapped back, making it
clear in her tone that if the girl said another word
about her mother, she might just be tasting her own
blood. “She’s been helping me deal with covering
up this skin issue for weeks, so I need her. Back-
stage. With me.”
“Audra—”
“Look, according to the contract,” she put a nasty
emphasis on the word. “This final Reveal is sup-
posed to be like a beauty pageant. The contestants
are responsible for their own look—we’re supposed
to show how we’ve integrated our new appearance.
How we’ve maintained it in our daily lives. To put
it your way, you’ve sold the concept as showing
the contestants as individuals, not cookie cutters
pressed out of the same mold. I’m expressing my
own identity here, Shamiyah. And after all the shit
this show’s put her through, is it too much to ask for
her to be the one who helps me?”
“Audra—”
“Shamiyah!” Audra snapped back, finding a
power of certainty deep within herself. “This was
my makeover . . . and the Big Reveal is mine to
win . . . or lose . . . my way!”
For just an instant, Shamiyah looked on the verge
of launching into either a stream of questions or a
vehement refusal. Her eyes swept over Audra and
Audra suspected that in spite of the baggy sweat-
pants, she noticed the pounds Audra had gained
curving in round lumps on her rear end and around
DIARY OF AN UGLY DUCKLING
361
her waist. She opened her mouth to comment, but
didn’t get a chance.
Instead, the woman’s cell phone rang and she
snapped it off her belt in exasperation. “What?” she
snapped into the phone, giving Camilla a run for
her money in terms of sheer imperious nastiness.
“Okay, I’m on my
