Diary of an Ugly Duckling

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Diary of an Ugly Duckling Page 15

by Langhorne, Karyn


  squinted down into her face, a puzzled expression

  on his handsome face. “New makeup?”

  Audra ignored the question, though she knew it

  was true: She did look different. After some initial

  irritation, Dr. Jamison’s dermabrasion, along with

  her continued efforts with dieting, seemed to be

  fading the acne and its scarring. And the daily ap-

  plication of the doctor’s lightening cream was defi-

  nitely beginning to show its efficacy. Her skin had

  more browns and reds in its tone than blacks or

  charcoals.

  But unlike the weight loss, which brought com-

  ments almost daily, to most people, the skin changes

  weren’t really noticeable yet—only people who

  paid regular attention to her face had commented

  on it: her mother, mainly, and to a lesser degree,

  Kiana. Audra was a little surprised that the tall

  man had commented first on it and not on the fact

  that there were nearly forty-five pounds less of

  her—especially since she hadn’t seen him in over

  two months.

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  Instead of launching into a detailed explanation

  she wasn’t sure he needed or deserved, she pulled

  the cool mantle of an aggrieved dame around her

  and quirked an eyebrow at him, lifting her foot off

  the rickety break-room seat so the man could settle

  into it across from her. “You’re the disappearing

  man, Art Bradshaw,” she quipped, sounding exactly

  like wisecracking Eve Arden in her own ears. “I

  haven’t seen you since . . .” she furrowed her brow

  as though trying hard to remember, as if the whole

  incident weren’t as fresh as today’s bread. “Since . . .

  Penny’s party . . .”

  Bradshaw’s tawny skin seemed tinged with red.

  “Penny’s party . . .” he grumbled, lowering his lu-

  minous eyes from her face. “Sorry, Marks. About

  Penny and the way she acted that night,” he finished

  quickly. “Been meaning to make her apologize,

  but . . .” He sighed. “We’ve been dealing with so

  much shit lately—”

  “No need to apologize. Doesn’t really matter

  much now anyway, does it?” she said lightly, man-

  aging to sound almost like she meant it. “Actually, I

  guess you and your daughter did me a favor that

  day. It was the last straw . . . just the last straw. I

  mean, I’ve heard all that stuff before . . . but to hear

  it from a sixteen-year-old girl . . .” She shook her

  head. “It helped me to decide to send in my audition

  tape. And now look what’s happened . . .”

  “What stuff?” Bradshaw stared at her, puzzlement

  creasing his face. “Audition tape? What did Penny

  say?”

  Audra quirked an eyebrow at him.

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  “She didn’t—didn’t you just say you wanted her

  to apologize—?” she began.

  “I heard her being rude,” he said slowly, frown-

  ing at her inquisitively. “Was there something

  else?”

  Audra opened her mouth to explain, then closed

  it. There was no reason to get the girl in trouble with

  her father for telling the truth—a truth that had

  sparked so much change in Audra’s life. Instead, she

  smiled at him and said, “No, of course not. You

  haven’t heard my news? You must be the only one in

  the whole prison—”

  “I had a—a family emergency.” Bradshaw’s brow

  curled into a frown of concern. “Had to take a few

  weeks off to try and deal with it. Just got back today.”

  “Emergency?” Audra sobered immediately, drop-

  ping the aggrieved routine to stare up at him in con-

  cern. “What’s happened? Nothing with Penny, I

  hope?”

  Bradshaw shook his head. “Not Penny. Her

  mother. “

  Audra blinked at him in surprise. “Her mother?

  She showed up?”

  “Showed up?” The frown deepened. “No, she’s al-

  ways been around.”

  “But I thought it was just the two of you. You and

  Penny.”

  “It is, for all practical purposes,” he muttered,

  sounding bitter and defeated. “We’ve been di-

  vorced for years. I take care of Penny. But she’s

  around . . . when she wants to be. Like the birthday

  party.”

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  “She was at the party?” Audra said in surprise.

  “Penny’s sweet sixteen?”

  Bradshaw’s face scrunched together like Audra

  had said something ridiculous. “Course she was.

  You met her! Remember?”

  “I didn’t meet anyone but Penny and that Esmer-

  alda woman—”

  The instant the words left her mouth, she realized

  who he was talking about, understood the depth of

  her mistake. Esmeralda Prince wasn’t just his fabu-

  lously gorgeous date for the evening. She was much,

  much more. The room suddenly felt stuffy and Au-

  dra had to tell herself to breathe slow and deep to

  keep her lightheadedness at bay, while her memo-

  ries of the party played in her mind. Esmeralda

  Prince was Penny’s mother? she thought, with a sud-

  den desperate wave of pity for the girl. No wonder

  she’s got issues . . .

  “Oh my God . . .” Audra murmured, covering her

  open mouth with her hands. “And here I was, think-

  ing Esmeralda Prince was your girlfriend . . .”

  “Prince is her maiden name. She took it back

  when we split up.” Bradshaw peered at Audra as

  though her thoughts were written on her face for

  him to read. “When Penny was two. She’s been in

  and out of our lives ever since . . .” He winced as

  though the words caused him pain. “And now she’s

  gone.”

  “Gone?” Audra repeated.

  Bradshaw nodded. “Again. And this time, I don’t

  think I can let her come back.”

  Audra stared at him, waiting for the rest, but he

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  folded his lips tight and stared at something just

  over her shoulder like his life depended on main-

  taining his focus. Finally, Audra snapped her fin-

  gers beneath his nose, recalling him brusquely to

  the present. “Down here, Bradshaw!” she snapped

  at him, annoyed by his inattentiveness. Apparently

  a girl had to be Esmeralda Prince to get—and

  keep—his attention. “Can I get the rest of the story

  please?”

  “You don’t know the rest of story?” he snapped,

  frustration rising in his tone. “You can’t tell by look-

  ing at her what a sap I’ve been?”

  Audra almost shot back something about how

  thinking with his “little head” had obviously gotten

  him into a world of trouble, but before she could of-

  fer that unhelpful comment, Bradshaw continued

  with, “Well look at her! Can’t you tell by how she

  looks? How thin she is?”
/>
  “You like light-skinned, skinny women who wear

  great clothes.” Audra lifted a shoulder like it wasn’t

  the tiniest skin off her nose. “If that were a crime,

  most of the men in America would be guilty. That’s

  one of the reasons I’m doing what I’m doing—”

  “Esmeralda’s got a drug problem, Audra,” Brad-

  shaw murmured. “A bad one.”

  Audra blinked at him. “A drug problem? She

  can’t have a drug problem! She’s too gorgeous to

  have a drug problem.”

  “Gorgeous,” Bradshaw rolled his eyes, his lips

  hard with suppressed fury. “I used to think so. She

  used to be beautiful.” He paused, remembering.

  “Curvaceous figure . . . womanly . . .” He shook the

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  image away. “But is it gorgeous to steal your daugh-

  ter’s presents and run out on her on her birthday?”

  he asked, and seeing the shock on Audra’s face, he

  added, “Yeah, it’s true. She stole all Penny’s gifts,

  most of the money in Penny’s bank account and dis-

  appeared. We haven’t seen her since.”

  “Said she was clean.” Bradshaw pulled a photo-

  graph from his wallet and flipped it toward her from

  his seat across from her in a bustling diner not far

  from the prison’s entrance. The sun was rising over

  Manhattan, but his handsome faced was etched

  with a pain so deep Audra had to turn her head to

  stop herself from reaching out and grabbing his

  hand, or stroking his face—anything to reassure

  him that it would be all right.

  But instead, from their booth near the window,

  Audra pulled the photo toward her across the table

  and glanced down at it.

  It was much-fingered, dog-eared, clearly carried

  and treasured for many years. In it, Audra recog-

  nized Bradshaw, Penny and Esmeralda all looking

  impossibly young. Audra knew the crisp uniform

  Bradshaw wore as the dress blues of the Marine

  Corps, and his face blinked out of the photograph

  with an almost adolescent innocence. Penny was a

  happy toddler on his lap, grinning wide, showing a

  mouthful of baby teeth.

  But it was Esmeralda who captured Audra’s atten-

  tion. She still had the fair skin and that long russet

  hair curling against her shoulders, but her face and

  arms were rounded with soft, voluptuous flesh.

  From her pose behind her husband and their daugh-

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  ter, Audra could make out the curves of fleshy hips.

  At the very least, she was pleasantly plump. Some

  might even have called her fat. Indeed, the Esmer-

  alda of this picture was certainly as heavy as Audra

  herself was right now. Audra glanced from the

  photo to the man before her, a sudden feeling of

  hopefulness combined with uneasiness settling in

  her stomach.

  “Nice,” she murmured sliding the photo back to

  Bradshaw, who returned it lovingly to his wallet.

  “She said she’d been clean for a year,” Bradshaw

  continued in his thrilling low baritone. “Wanted to

  apologize to Penny and me for . . . leaving us. Ap-

  parently she got a job here in the city—typing for

  some law firm . . .” He sighed. “But she didn’t have

  a place to stay.”

  “And you let her move in with you,” Audra fin-

  ished.

  “She’s Penny’s mother, for Christ’s sake!” Brad-

  shaw exploded, slamming his fist against the table

  so that their coffee cups jumped in their saucers.

  “She seemed better! What was I supposed to do?”

  “I’m not judging you, Bradshaw,” Audra said as

  gently as possible. “I’m just trying to understand

  what happened.”

  The man took a big gulp of air and offered a

  pained smile to her shoulder. Audra was turning her

  head toward it when she remembered: Except on

  rare occasions, Bradshaw seemed to prefer her

  shoulder to her face. After the picture, it was a sharp

  reminder: Even if Bradshaw didn’t mind a woman

  with a few extra pounds, Audra was still no Esmer-

  alda Prince . . . at least, not yet.

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  “Sorry,” he muttered, and Audra focused her at-

  tention on the man again. “I’m furious with myself.

  And her. Penny was already all confused and

  crazy—”

  “How is she? Penny?”

  “Miserable. Says she hates Esmeralda, but . . .” His

  handsome head wagged from side to side. “Truth is

  she wants to be just like her and can’t figure out why

  Esmeralda treats her the way she does.” His eyes

  found Audra’s again. “I took a few days off, let her

  skip a few days of school. Took a little road trip. Out

  to the Poconos. To clear our heads.”

  “Did it help, you think?” Audra asked, feeling a

  strange empathy replace her annoyance with the

  girl. “She was already dealing with a lot of stuff—a

  new school, being sixteen and tall—she needed this

  like a hole in the head.”

  “You’re right about that,” Bradshaw agreed.

  “Don’t really know what to say about any of this

  anymore.” His eyes searched hers. “I want to tell her

  mother, ‘That’s it. Stay away from her. From us.

  We’ve given you enough chances . . . but there’s an-

  other part of me”—he shrugged—“believes people

  can change. Stupid, huh?”

  “Not stupid . . . but

  . . . Bradshaw,” she began

  slowly, “can I ask you something?”

  “Shoot,” he said, focusing his amber-eyed interest

  on her.

  Audra hesitated, searching for the best way to ask

  the questions burning in her heart. “Penny shared

  something with me as I was leaving. She thinks you

  think she’s . . .” she began hesitantly, “too tall. You

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  know . . . ungainly.” She paused. “Ugly.” Her eyes

  found his. “Do you?”

  Bradshaw was silent for a long moment, his big

  fingers curving protectively around the coffee mug.

  Audra imagined those fingers, cupping his new-

  born daughter . . . and then imagined the feel of

  them stroking her own skin.

  “I think she’s beautiful,” he said bluntly, and Au-

  dra read emotion in his eyes. “Just beautiful.” He

  frowned. “She knows that. Did I say something?

  Something she misunderstood?”

  “I’m sure it was something like that,” Audra said

  quickly, pretending ignorance. “What about Esmer-

  alda?”

  “What about her?” Bradshaw growled.

  “Well, as angry as you are with her, you have to

  admit you think she’s beautiful. I mean, you were

  married to her once.”

  “Yeah, I thought she was pretty, once. But

  now . . .” He shook his head. “Penny says her

  mother is ugly on the inside . . . and she’s rig
ht.” He

  locked eyes with Audra. “Why?”

  Audra shrugged. “No reason.” Apparently Penny

  hadn’t shared anything of her I don’t want to be like

  you conversation with her father. With her mother’s

  betrayal, Audra suspected the whole incident had

  been blown to the furthest corners of her mind.

  Somehow knowing that Art had no knowledge of

  what had transpired between them and the true rea-

  sons for his absence erased the last residue of her

  anger toward him. She debated with herself for a

  split second, then decided, turning her face up to

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  Karyn Langhorne

  the man with a broad I’ve-got-a-secret smile. “You’ve

  heard my news, right?”

  Bradshaw shook his big head and waited.

  “You didn’t hear about the television crew that

  was here yesterday?”

  “Oh yeah,” Bradshaw nodded. “One of the female

  officers is going to be on some reality show, right?”

  Audra let her grin widen across her face until real-

  ization dawned in Bradshaw’s eyes.

  “You?” The big man sounded awed, impressed.

  “What for?”

  “I’ve been selected for one of those makeover

  shows,” Audra said proudly. “It’s called the Ugly

  Duckling and basically they take ugly women, do a

  lot of plastic surgery and—and—other stuff and

  change them into beautiful ones who compete for a

  grand prize. I’m leaving in a few weeks. Off to Cali-

  fornia, where I’ll be transformed into a swan. Isn’t

  that a kick?” she said impishly. “Me, a beauty queen.

  Can you believe it?”

  The smile drained bit by bit from Bradshaw’s face.

  “Ugly Duckling?” he said, his brow creasing with

  confusion. “Transformed? You? Why? You’re beauti-

  ful the way you are—” He stopped, chewing on his

  lips like he’d revealed a deep secret.

  Audra’s mouth dropped open in surprise. Beauti-

  ful . . . Had she actually heard that word fall from the

  man’s lips . . . with herself as its intended subject?

  “But I thought . . . didn’t you want me to talk to

  Penny because . . . I mean . . .” Audra tripped over

  the words, trying to find her way through her con-

  flicting understandings. “I always thought you

  thought I was ugly.”

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  159

  “Never said any such thing,” Art bristled. “And

  as for Penny, why wouldn’t I want her to know a

  woman who carries herself with grace and humor?

  And that’s what makes you—or any woman for that

 

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