Diary of an Ugly Duckling by Langhorne, Karyn (general ebook reader .txt) 📕

lair in peace.

“It’s got to be difficult. Especially for a woman

with a job like yours. A woman who’s used to be-

ing an authority figure. Used to being in charge of

others.”

“I don’t really see it that way,” Audra mumbled.

The bandage packing in her nose from the rhino-

plasty made it hard to talk and breathe, but this

woman didn’t seem to care about Audra’s comfort.

She wanted to talk and wasn’t going to quit until her

time was up.

“Then how do you see it? Why did you choose

such a masculine profession, Audra?”

“I’ve always been interested in criminal justice,”

Audra answered quickly. “There’s nothing deeper

to it than that!”

Dr. Goddard was silent for a long time. Audra felt

the woman’s eyes on her, studying her carefully.

“I don’t entirely believe that,” she said at last.

“Well, whether you believe it or not, it’s the

truth.”

Another long silence punctuated the space be-

tween them, the woman said in a low and careful-

sounding voice, “It seems to me you’ve got all

kinds of issues around your femininity, your ap-

pearance . . . even your identity.”

Audra froze. Oh shit, she thought. Oh shit, oh shit . . .

“How long have you suspected your mother’s for-

mer husband wasn’t your father?”

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That child’s too ugly to be mine . . . The words echoed

in Audra’s brain and she closed her eyes tight against

them. Too ugly to be mine . . . At the time, it had

seemed like a good idea, but now, she regretted hav-

ing used those words in her audition tape. These peo-

ple seemed too determined to make a big issue out it.

“You’ve seen the pictures,” Audra replied, her jaw

clenched tight. “The differences in coloring . . . in

body type . . .” She opened her eyes, fixing the other

woman with a determined stare. “Look, doc. I know

what you want me to say—and I know this is going

to bring the powers that be down on me big time,

but . . .” She shook her head. “I’m not outing my

mother like this. I might be mad as hell at her, in my

way. But I’m not accusing her of adultery. Not on na-

tional television.”

“All right,” Dr. Goddard said, as though she

weren’t disappointed in the slightest. She uncrossed

and recrossed her legs. “So how did it feel to grow

up the darkest one in the family?”

“Listen, Doc, I’m really, really tired. I don’t want

to talk about this right now.”

“That’s why we’re talking about it, Audra. It’s at

the core of what’s driving you—”

“All that’s driving me right now is pain!” Audra

snapped. “I can barely breathe. Everything from my

neck to my kneecaps hurts—”

“And so does everything inside you, Audra.” Dr.

Goddard leaned forward again, giving Audra her

most concerned doctor look. “Listen to me. You will

never be happy with what you see on the outside if

you’re constantly running from the wounds on the

inside.”

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“It’s not painful,” Audra shot back and crossed her

arms over her chest, ignoring discomfort so intense

that it made her eyes water. “These ‘wounds’—if they

ever were that—healed a long time ago. There’s no

point to re-opening them now—”

“Then why are you here, Audra?” Dr. Goddard’s

eyebrows shot up with an infuriating significance.

“If you recreate yourself—if you completely reshape

your face and body—aren’t you erasing your par-

ents, your heritage, your past?”

If she could have gotten up and stormed out of the

room, she would have . . . but as achy and tired as

she was, that was damn near impossible. Besides,

this was her space. Let the doctor leave.

“I hate that you listen to my private phone calls,”

Audra hissed instead at the woman. “Don’t you

think this would be more productive if you let me

bring up what I want to bring up on my own time?”

“But that’s just it, Audra. You’re an Ugly Duck-

ling. You have no privacy . . . and we don’t have any

time.” She sighed. “Look, Shamiyah told me about

your reluctance—”

“Great,” Audra muttered. “That’s just great.”

Dr. Goddard waved Audra’s indignation away. “It

doesn’t matter. What matters is that you acknowl-

edge that this decision—this life change—goes

deeper than wanting a boyfriend, more than want-

ing to know what it feels like to be one of the ‘pretty

girls.’ You don’t know who you are, Audra. And un-

less you’re willing to explore that question, all you’re

accomplishing is moving from a very plain, very

lonely and very insecure woman to a very pretty,

very lonely and very insecure woman.”

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Audra glared at her. “You know, I really don’t like

you.”

Dr. Goddard pushed her severe glasses higher up

on her long nose and smiled. “Yes. I get that a lot.

Now, I think a journal might be helpful here, so . . .”

She thrust a book covered in a plain dark fabric into

Audra’s hands. “Talk to it—”

“I don’t have anything to say.”

Dr. Goddard sighed. “Just try it, Audra. It won’t

bite you.”

Audra eyed her suspiciously. “Are you going to

read it, Big Brother . . . or should I say, Big Sister?”

“It depends. Are you going to talk to me?”

Audra frowned, but didn’t answer. Instead she

stared at the book and the neat gold-leaf pen the

woman had clipped to its surface.

Dr. Goddard rose. “Why don’t you write down all

those caustic things that are going through your

brain right now? Get them out on paper, if you don’t

want to say them.” She patted Audra on her foot as

if she knew it was the only safe part of her whole

body. “You’re doing well, Audra. Do you realize you

haven’t cracked a joke or mentioned a movie in this

entire session? I consider that progress.”

She reached for a large leather carry tote, nodded

at the nurse and paced the few short steps toward

the door. “Oh, Audra . . .” She leaned back into the

room. “I almost forgot. Who is Art Bradshaw?”

Audra felt a flush coming to her cheeks and for

the first time felt grateful for the bandages.

“Just a co-worker,” she answered. “Why?”

The good doctor smiled. “No reason,” she said

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221

sweetly, then opened the door and disappeared into

the hallway.

“I think it could be a good idea.” Bradshaw’s voice

rumbled over three thousand miles to her, offering

calm support. To her surprise, he’d actually called

back,