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it.” Audra chuckled. “I seem to have introduced a lot

of people to the glory days of film.”

“Mmmfph,” Edith muttered, making her first

sounds since they’d left the studio. “I thought they

was supposed to be changing you, not the other way

around.”

“That’s the funny thing about people, Ma. We all

impact each other in ways we can’t always antici-

pate.”

Edith rolled her eyes. “Here we go! Here goes the

blame game. I swear, Audra, if this is how it’s gonna

be with you day after day, I am not—”

“What? I didn’t say anything!” Audra shot back.

“Don’t be so—”

“If this is how it’s gonna be—” Edith repeated

even louder and more stridently than before.

“Okay, okay,” Audra said briskly. “Forgive me. I

only meant—”

Her mother looked up at her, smoky eyes agi-

tated. “No, never mind. I guess I’m . . . just not used

to seeing my daughter this way,” she admitted.

“They did a good job on them extensions. Is that the

same stuff Oprah got?” But before Audra could an-

swer, she turned her head toward the window,

pulling the shade and closing her eyes as though she

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Karyn Langhorne

were exhausted. “I thought sure that girl Shamiyah

said they would at least put us up for the night . . .”

“Are you really my Aunt Audra?” Kiana asked,

staring at her with big eyes from her place beside

her grandmother.

“Really,” Audra said, leaning toward her with a

smile on her face.

“You sound like her . . . but you don’t look like

her,” she said with a frown. “You don’t look like her

at all.”

“Don’t you like the way I look?” Audra asked.

The little girl stared at her for a long while. “You

look nice . . . but you just don’t look like Aunt Au-

dra. Aunt Audra had skin like midnight and eyes

like fire. And she was soft all over when she hugged

me.” She sighed. “I miss her.”

The words stung like a lash and Audra felt tears

prickling behind her eyes. She was about to say

something, something reassuring and familiar that

might regain Kiana’s trust, when Penny Bradshaw

interrupted with, “Did he give you the shoes, too?”

She nodded at the emerald green pumps on Audra’s

feet. “The plastic surgeon—”

“Oh . . . no. The shoes were from Dr. Bremmar.

He did my face. They work together—they’re part-

ners. I guess they must shop together, too!” Audra

laughed like maybe someone else might find the im-

age of the two doctors shopping together amusing,

but got no takers. They didn’t know either man . . .

and you had to know them to get the joke. “No,” she

said not bothering to explain. “I’m sure they had

their assistant shop for them or something. Actually

I got gifts from all of them—all the experts,” and she

DIARY OF AN UGLY DUCKLING

291

proceeded to tell them about how her old black duf-

fel had been emptied of the things she had brought

at the beginning of her Ugly Duckling journey and

every item replaced by a trinket from each of the

people she had worked with over the past three

months. There was a pair of tiny black yoga pants

and three crop tops in different colors from Juli-

enne; a lovely wide-brimmed hat and gloves from

Dr. Jamison; the clingy silk dress and shoes from

Drs. Koch and Bremmar; the black handbag she was

carrying from Shamiyah, and a gold necklace from

Camilla. But the most unusual gift by far was from

Dr. Goddard: a delicate hand mirror, edged in gilt,

on which the word beholder was engraved in fili-

gree.

“Beholder?” Edith frowned. “Why ‘beholder’?

What kind of message is that?”

“It’s a reminder,” Audra said quietly. “That beauty

is in the eye of the beholder . . .” She glanced in

Art’s direction, but to her dismay, he lowered his

eyes almost as soon as she captured them. “And that

my own perception of myself is the most important

one of all.”

“Amazing,” Penny Bradshaw breathed again, in

the same tone of absolute wonder. Then silence

reigned in the car again.

“I want to know all about it . . . everything. Did it

hurt? How much of the hair is yours? What did they

do to your skin to get it so . . . so . . .” Penny Brad-

shaw settled herself into the seat Audra had been

hoping her father might take and started talking a

blue streak. “Light?”

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Karyn Langhorne

They had first-class seats . . . which should have

provided a prime opportunity for them to talk, but

Art must not have wanted that. Audra glanced at

him: he leaned over the seat ahead of them, helping

Kiana buckle her seat belt. With that accomplished,

he excused himself for the lavatory, keeping his

head down.

Audra stared after him, confused and let down, a

vague feeling of depression replacing the elation of

only hours ago. For months, she’d been at the center

of her own little Ugly Duckling universe, where

everything and everyone had been about her. Cam-

eras had followed her every move . . . and everyone

in her life had been focused on one thing: her trans-

formation, her Reveal. And now, with the flash of a

bulb and the yank of a curtain, it was over. No cam-

eras, no Shamiyah, no experts to question and an-

noy. Not even Bradshaw was acting right.

“So did it?” Penny was asking, and Audra turned

to find Art’s deep-set amber eyes staring back at her

from his daughter’s face. “Did it hurt?”

“What do you think?” Audra smiled. “Like hell.”

“What was the worst part?”

“Being away from home.” Audra answered im-

mediately. “I was pretty lonely. Bored, too.”

“No, about the surgery!” Penny corrected, waving

aside Audra’s loneliness and boredom aside with a

slender brown hand. “What was the worst?”

Audra frowned with the effort of remembering.

Now that it was behind her, none of it seemed so bad

anymore. “I guess the nose job,” she said slowly. “But

the tummy tuck wasn’t a picnic either.”

“Yeah,” Penny reached over and turned Audra’s

DIARY OF AN UGLY DUCKLING

293

head, inspecting her nose at every angle like a

surgeon. “But they did a really good job. I’d love to

get my nose done—”

“There’s nothing wrong with your nose, Penny.”

The girl pinched at her nostrils. “They’re too wide,

and here . . .” She rubbed at the bridge. “It

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