Diary of an Ugly Duckling Langhorne, Karyn (reading rainbow books txt) 📖

I

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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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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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

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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