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tonight. That was the

reason, of all the women in the prison, Art Brad-

shaw had invited her. It had nothing to do with her

sense of humor, the things they seemed to have in

common or even her sterling character. It was just a

matter of being the ugliest woman in the prison—

the ugliest woman he could find.

DIARY OF AN UGLY DUCKLING

71

Fatigue, sudden and exhausting, settled over her

like a garbage bag, hot, stifling.

“You didn’t know, did you?” Penny Bradshaw

asked, suddenly grasping Audra’s arm.

Audra shook her head, not trusting her voice. A

lifetime of hurt, loneliness and pain seemed lodged

in her throat. Penny’s image swam in her wet eyes

and Audra thought she read in them the echoes of

her own pain.

“God . . . I’m sorry . . . I thought . . .” Penny whis-

pered. “Oh my God . . . you like him, don’t you?

And he didn’t tell you—about Esmeralda or—

anything?”

Audra cleared her throat, willing herself to

speech. “No.”

“It’s not quite like it seems. My dad isn’t a bad

guy, but—” the girl sighed. “He’s a guy. You and I

both know how they are. Niceness and goodness

and smartness don’t matter. If you’re pretty, you can

be a bitch,” she said, anger snaking beneath the

words. “You can be dumb as dirt, mean-spirited,

hurt people—and still, you’ll never be alone.” She

shook her head. “No one cares about what you’ve got

going on the inside—at least not until they like the

package on the outside. Forget character: the thing to

do is pretty up, like they say on TV. Pretty up by any

means necessary. My dad doesn’t get that—because

it’s different for him, being a man and all. But for a

girl . . . for a woman . . .” she sighed, as world-

weary as any sixty-year-old. “I’m sorry, Officer

Marks. I’m sure you’re a nice lady . . . but I don’t

want to be anything like you. Not ever.”

Penny shuddered, whether from the cold or from

72

Karyn Langhorne

the words she’d spoken or the thought of being like

Audra, Audra didn’t know. But with a quickly mut-

tered, “goodbye,” she disappeared back inside the

restaurant, leaving Audra very much alone.

Chapter 6

“My God, Audra! Do you have any idea what

time—”

Audra ignored her mother, thrust her arm deeper

into the junk-food cabinet and swept a four-pack of

mini-puddings, a canister of potato chips and two

bags of cookies into the waiting garbage bag with a

single swipe.

She knelt on the kitchen floor in her bra, the but-

ton at the waist of her tight black pants loose, her

new yellow chiffon top in a puddle on the floor be-

side the spikey high heels.

“What on earth are you doing?” her mother de-

manded, standing over her in her bathrobe, her

hairdo now concealed under a colorful do-rag.

“What does it look like?” Audra snapped, crawl-

ing deeper into the cabinet. “I’m going on a diet.

Again. Are you happy now?” She pulled out a small

bag of Halloween candy she’d forgotten was back

there. She dumped it into the waiting plastic bag

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Karyn Langhorne

along with a half-eaten box of ancient crackers and

then rose, letting the cabinet door slam.

“You’re gonna wake Kiana—”

“I’m not gonna wake Kiana, Ma,” Audra said

tightly. She moved around the kitchen, opening

doors and drawers, pulling out a bottle of chocolate

syrup here and a package of marshmallows there

until the garbage bag was too heavy to hold any

more. She let it slip to the floor and turned toward

Edith, breathing hard with her efforts.

Her mother stared at her. For a brief time the two

women considered each other, then Edith shook her

head.

“So, I’m guessing it didn’t go well with your

Bradshaw,” she said in a tone that suggested she

was trying very hard not to sound smug and failing

miserably. “I don’t want to say ‘I told you so’—”

“Then don’t,” Audra snapped, dragging the

garbage bag toward the front door.

“That’s just how men are, Audra,” her mother

continued, following her. “It’s not that they’re not

interested in the rest of the package, but they appre-

ciate the efforts we make on the outside—”

Esmeralda Prince rose like a vision in Audra’s

mind. Art Bradshaw appreciated the outside, all

right. That much was very, very clear.

Audra opened the front door, dragged the

garbage bag of junk food out into the corridor and

slammed the door on it like it was an unwelcome

guest. Edith shook her head.

“So you’re going on a diet. Again. Do you have to

make such a production out of everything? After

DIARY OF AN UGLY DUCKLING

75

you lose a few pounds and do something with your

hair, there’ll be plenty of men—”

Audra whirled on her, angry words rising in her

throat as she stared into her attractive cinnamon

face.

“Will there, Ma? Is that all it takes—twenty

pounds and a hair weave?” she gestured at herself,

bra and all. “Look at me, Ma. When is the last time I

had a date, huh?”

“Back when you were in criminal justice school, I

think,” her mother frowned calling up a memory.

“Nice boy. Leon or Larry or something—”

“Lamont,” Audra said bitterly. Her mother

couldn’t keep track of the names of the people in a

conversation about today, but she could get within a

few syllables of the name of a rotten jerk she’d had

one date with years ago. “And he wasn’t so nice,

Ma. You know why he went out with me? To win a

competition with his buddies. A competition over

who could sleep with the ugliest girl.”

Edith sighed a sigh that suggested Audra should

have known better. “Well, he was really handsome,

Audra. You can’t expect a guy that handsome—”

“Why can’t I, Ma?” Audra roared her anger and

frustration and humiliation beyond containment.

“Why can’t I?

“Because that’s not the way it works, Audra. An

ugly man has as good a shot as a good-looking one,

but an ugly woman is a sin against nature,” she

preached. “I earn my living on the truth of that. Do

you think I caught your father with my personal-

ity?” She shook her head. “No—”

76

Karyn Langhorne

“And that great love story worked out really

well,” Audra scoffed. “He left you when I was nine.”

“Well, there were lots of reasons for that.”

“Tell me about it,” Audra muttered, closing her

eyes against the memory of the night her father left.

Edith hesitated, her eyes fixed on Audra’s face.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked

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