Diary of an Ugly Duckling (20 page)
thing again,” she said, a little surprised by the
plaintiveness of her own voice. “Tell me I’m doing
the right thing . . . by becoming an Ugly Duckling.
Maybe . . . maybe . . .” Audra struggled with the
words. “Maybe I’m okay the way I am . . . maybe I
shouldn’t be doing this after all.”
There was a second’s hesitation on the other end
of the phone, then Shamiyah said, “Why? Are you
having second thoughts?”
“Well, yes,” Audra admitted. “I mean, he said I
DIARY OF AN UGLY DUCKLING
163
was beautiful. He said I had grace and humor. Me!
Maybe—”
“You’re doing the right thing,” Shamiyah said re-
assuringly. “You’re building yourself a brand new
future, Audra. I mean, look at the confidence you’ve
gained already. A few weeks ago, would you have had
the nerve to invite this Bradshaw guy to the show?
Would you?”
Audra considered. “I don’t think so . . .” she said
at last. “No.”
“See what I mean? The changes you’re making on
the
outside
are giving you the courage to make
changes on the
inside
!” she enthused. “Imagine what
you’ll be like when you’ve completed the whole pro-
cess. You’ll be a powerhouse, Audra! An absolute
powerhouse
!” Audra imagined her nodding so hard,
her head full of springy curls were dancing a jig.
“Don’t let any of this stuff he said confuse you.”
“But maybe he’s right. I mean, I have lost weight.
It’s been really hard, but I know I look better. Be-
sides . . .” She swallowed. “This lightening thing
makes me nervous. Maybe I’ve done enough al-
ready. Maybe I should just quit.”
“All because some guy said you were ‘beautiful
just the way you are,’ ” she said, pitching her voice
in a mincing imitation that made the words sound
shallow and lifeless. “Come on, Audra. That one’s
right up there with a ‘good personality.’ It’s code for
‘not my type.’ ”
Audra frowned. “But he asked if he could call me
sometime—”
“He asked you to his daughter’s party, too. Had
he talked to you since? No.” Shamiyah answered
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Karyn Langhorne
herself before Audra could get her mouth around
the word. “Heck, he wasn’t even looking for you to-
day. You said yourself he just happened to work a
double shift. If it hadn’t been for that, you still
wouldn’t have heard a word from him—”
“But he’s been dealing with a lot of family prob-
lems. With Esmeralda and—”
“Yeah, yeah. You’ve got some things to
learn
about
men, Audra.” Shamiyah sounded like she was
rolling her eyes. “Let me lay some
knowledge
on you,
sister girl.” She paused for dramatic effect, using the
silence as well as in any movie scene. “When a man
is really
into
you, he can
find
his way to your tele-
phone and your workplace and your front door. It
doesn’t matter what
else
is going on his life. When
he’s really interested, he’ll find a way to make
sure
you know it.” She let that sink in a second before
adding in her worldly, know-it-all way, “I bet when
he first met Esmeralda,
she
didn’t have to spend
three months guessing what was going on with him.
I bet
she
didn’t have to wait until she
happened
to run
into him at work. No way. I bet he was sniffing
around after her with his nose wide open!”
“What you’re saying makes sense, Shamiyah,”
Audra agreed. “It’s just . . . I don’t know. I believed
him, I guess—”
“You believed him,” Shamiyah repeated the
words, her voice heavy with skepticism. “Well, I
guess we’ll just have to wait and see what he does
next, then, right? We’ll have to see if he calls. He’s
got your phone number, right?”
Audra squirmed a little. “I don’t know,” she ad-
mitted. “I don’t think so.”
DIARY OF AN UGLY DUCKLING
165
“Let me get this straight. He said he’s going to call
you, but he doesn’t even have your phone number?
Gimme a break, Audra!”
“I said I didn’t know, Shamiyah,” Audra ex-
ploded in frustration. “He might have it. Just be-
cause I didn’t give it to him doesn’t mean—”
“Did he look you in the face this time?” Shamiyah
interrupted. “Did he look you in the face . . . or did
he spend most of the conversation staring over your
shoulder, or at your chin—anywhere but dead on?”
Audra sighed. She would have given anything to
be able to contradict her—to offer evidence in Brad-
shaw’s defense. But there wasn’t any. She could
count on one hand the times Bradshaw had shown
her his eyes in the course of their conversation, and
those had been startlingly brief.
“You’re doing the right thing, Audra,” Shamiyah
said in the silence, her tone returning to calm reas-
surance. “You are absolutely doing the right thing!”
There was another short pause before she continued
with a slight giggle. “And even if you’re not, you’ve
signed a contract, so that’s pretty much that. Now,
get yourself over to the gym, sweetie. When your Art
Bradshaw sees you again, he’ll be eating his heart
out with regret!” She paused a moment and when
she spoke again, her voice had assumed a very dif-
ferent tone. “How’s your mother? How’s Edith?”
Audra rolled her eyes. “Don’t ask.”
June 24
Dear Petra,
It’s my last day here in New York. Tomorrow I fly to Los
Angeles and the process begins.
I’m a little nervous, but mostly, I’m ready to go. Ma’s
been driving me crazy—scolding me one minute for
being a fool, and pleading with me the next. She
knows the only chance of stopping me now is to come
clean, but she still won’t do it. I’m beginning to think
she never will.
And Shamiyah was right: I haven’t seen Bradshaw
since that day. He hasn’t even called. She seems to
think he just needed someone to talk to that day, and I
was convenient. Just like he needed someone to
buffer for his daughter on the night of her party . . .
and I was convenient. That’s me: Miss Convenient.
Shamiyah’s really becoming a good friend—almost
DIARY OF AN UGLY DUCKLING
167
like another sister. I would buy her explanations for
AB’s behavior lock, stock and barrel if it weren’t for the
movies. It’s weird he watches the same TV I do. It just
seems like we’d have so much in common . . . if only
he’d take the time to find out.
But anyway, on the whole, I’m ready. The only
person I’ll really miss is Kiana. I haven’t talked to her
about it much, but I think she understands.
I’m using up all my accrued vacation and sick time
and taking an extended leave from work. I won’t miss
it. I don’t think I want to be a model when all this is
over, but I wonder how much longer I want to work in
corrections. I feel pulled to try something new . . . but
I don’t know what. Maybe when I look into my own
eyes in a new face, I’ll know.
Sounds like you’re going to be on the move soon
yourself. Maybe things will have settled down in the
southern part of the country by the time your detail has
to make its deliveries. Keep emailing me—I bought a
laptop computer to take with me to L.A. just so we
can stay in touch.
Be careful out there,
Audra
Shamiyah stood at the baggage claim when Audra
arrived, looking fresh and fashionable in a red
top with delicate flounces of lace hanging low
enough to be seductive but high enough to avoid be-
ing too sexy for everyday, another pair of low-slung
jeans and high-heeled red-tipped slides. Audra
took her in from tip to toes, deciding in an instant
that when she was finished with her makeover, she
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Karyn Langhorne
would adopt Shamiyah’s exact style, right down to
the dangling earrings hanging from her perky
brown lobes.
The woman was staring intently at her. “My God!
You’ve lost another what? Twenty pounds?” she
asked, nodding her approval.
“Only ten,” Audra admitted. “I followed the diet
to the letter but”—she grinned sheepishly, donning
a Southern accent—“I loves Ma’s fried chicken.”
Shamiyah laughed. “Well, you won’t be getting
any of it out here.” She appraised Audra again, this
time with the cool eye of her profession. “It defi-
nitely looks good. For real life, I’d say this is the
perfect weight for you. But for television, you’ll have
to lose about thirty more,” she added, her inspection
continuing. “And you really
are
lighter. There’s a
lot more red in your skin now than there was
when we shot the New York footage a few weeks
ago.” She squinted as if that would make the differ-
ences more plain. “You’ve definitely gone from
dark chocolate to milk chocolate . . . but it’s not as
dramatic as I would have expected. From what
Dr. Jamison said, I thought you’d be”—she shrugged
a pretty shoulder—“graham cracker brown or some-
thing by now.”
“I was a little worried I might be white chocolate,
myself,” Audra joked. “He says he’s going to up the
dosage a bit now that I’m here and he can watch for
side effects.”
“Good.” Shamiyah nodded, shaking her mountain
of springy curls. “We want this makeover to be as
dramatic as possible. That’s the best way to ensure
that all the sistahs from Maine to Honolulu tune in.”
DIARY OF AN UGLY DUCKLING
169
She squeezed Audra’s arm, showing a few tastefully
manicured fingers, then flipped her sunglasses
down from the top of her head and started walking
and talking at a speed many a New Yorker would
have envied. “And that gives you the strongest
chance to be voted Top Three,” she said, leaning to-
ward Audra conspiratorially, and Audra felt like the
two of them were united in a common, secret mission.
“I wouldn’t count on winning the whole enchilada—
that’s probably going to go to one of the white girls—
but I definitely think we can make the Top Three, if
you keep working it. Now,” she said, resuming her
normal voice, “I’ve got a car waiting. Let’s grab the
rest of your stuff ”—she grabbed the black duffel out
of Audra’s fingers and slung it over her shoulder by
its strap—“and I’ll take you where you’ll be living for
the next three months, and then—”
“Girl, we can go to the car now. There’s no more
luggage,” Audra interrupted. “There’s nothing of
my old life I need with me that didn’t fit in this little
bag—underwear, toothbrush, deodorant and work-
out clothes—that’s it. When the surgery is over and
we have the Reveal, the first thing I want to do is go
on a shopping trip. Already set aside a budget.”
Shamiyah draped her slender brown arm around
Audra’s shoulder. “If we play the marketing right,
someone will be
giving
you that wardrobe when
we’re finished. Promise me you won’t spend a dime
without talking it over with me, okay?”
Audra nodded.
“Good girl.” Shamiyah gave her another girl-
friendly grin, then reached into the little red satchel
slung casually over her other shoulder. “And
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Karyn Langhorne
speaking of gifts . . .” she pulled a little black case
out of it. “Here you go.”
Audra accepted the package, her mouth open in
surprise. “What is it?” she asked the box, inspecting
it from all angles.
“Open it, silly,” Shamiyah laughed. “That’s the
best way to find out.”
Audra pried open the case. Nestled inside were a
pair of sunglasses identical to the ones Shamiyah
wore.
“Wow—”
“They’re really hot right now. Everyone’s wearing
them.”
“Shamiyah.” Audra shook her head. “I don’t
know how to thank you.”
“Don’t thank me.” She leaned close. “The com-
pany is one of the show’s sponsors, so I got them for
free.” She flipped her own pair down over her eyes
and nodded for Audra to do the same.
Audra settled the glasses on her nose and pulled
her baseball cap down low, then shrugged back into
her long-sleeved jacket. It was so loose now, the
sleeves easily covered her fingertips, blocking their
exposure to the sun. Shamiyah studied these prepa-
rations, shaking her head. “You’re gonna burn up
out here, dressed like that!”
“Dr. Jamison said no sun—”
“But he didn’t say no
style
. We’ll work on it.” The
arm dropped around Audra’s shoulder again. “Wel-
come to L.A., girl!”
“This is it.” Shamiyah swung wide the double
