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

were so different. I could see how you and Petra

needed each other, kept each other from getting into

too much trouble. And I was afraid if I told you I’d

mess that up. And then you were an adult, and . . .”

She sighed again. “I should have told you, but I

couldn’t bear to see that look in your eyes. That

judgment for all the mistakes I’d made”—a fresh

wave of tears misted her eyes—“so I just kept on

denying it and denying it and denying it, even

though every I time I looked at you, he was there

and I’d feel like maybe I wasn’t so”—her voice

cracked—“alone.”

“Ma—”

“I wish I could undo it—I wish all kinds of things,

but I can’t!” her mother cried. “The past is past. If

you have to hate me for the rest of your life, I sup-

pose it’s no less than I deserve but—”

“Ma, I don’t hate you. At least . . . I don’t want to

hate you anymore. I want—” She hesitated, strug-

gling with the words. “I want to understand. I want

to be able to talk to you about this . . . and I want to

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know about him. I want to know what he was like.

Am I like him . . . at all?”

Her mother grimaced. “Audra, I really don’t see

the sense of—”

“Please, Mama,” Audra grabbed her hand. “Am I

like him?”

Edith stared hard into her face, then sighed, her

shoulders collapsing in on each other as though she

were a much older woman. “No, Audra . . . you

looked like him, but you’re not much like him.

But . . . you’re an awful lot like me . . .” Her walnut

brown hand covered Audra’s beige one. “And you

always have been.” She gave a faint smile. “I know

that isn’t what you want to hear, but—”

“No, Mama,” Audra squeezed her mother’s hand.

“It’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”

There was just a moment, when the two of them

stared at each other, each rooted to her spot by uncer-

tainty. Audra didn’t know who moved first—and

didn’t care—but in another moment, her arms were

locked around her mother’s body and she felt the

woman’s embrace tight around her back.

“I was going to tell you the night before your sur-

gery,” Edith whispered, clinging tightly to Audra’s

shoulders. “I tried and tried, but I couldn’t get the

words out. And then, you started talking about dy-

ing and loving me and all that. Even after you hung

up, I couldn’t get it out of my mind, so I called back.

Got a busy signal.” She pulled herself out of Audra’s

arms, wiping her face again. “I called and called and

called . . . until finally I dug up that girl Shamiyah’s

number. And I told her ‘I got to tell Audra some-

thing really important about herself and you gotta

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help me.’ I told her, ‘Once she hears what I have to

say, she’ll stop talking about all this surgery and

skin bleaching and come on home.’ ” Edith shook

her head. “She said she’d try to get you a message,

but that the phones were being disconnected in your

apartment there. For a whole week, to help speed

your recovery—”

Disconnected? That didn’t ring true. Not at all . . .

“Phones disconnected?” Audra asked, frowning.

“The phones were never disconnected. At least not

that I know of.”

“Well, that’s what she said. She said she’d try to

get you a message before your surgery, but it might

be too late, since they were going to start the first

procedure so early in the morning.”

“I never even got a message from Shamiyah that

you’d called . . .”

“She wasn’t able to get to you. At least that’s what

she told me.” And when Audra turned toward her

in query, she continued. “She called me back. A cou-

ple of times. To tell me how you were doing after all

that cutting . . . and to give me an idea of when I’d

be able to call you. She kept asking ‘Is this about her

father? Is this about her father?’ until finally I broke

down and told her yeah. That’s when she got all ex-

cited and started talking about how much it would

mean to you, and when she promised not to use it

on the show.” Edith smiled. “She’s a nice girl. Seems

to really like you.”

Audra’s frown deepened. It all sounded right,

sounded logical and feasible enough, and yet, some-

thing nibbled at the back of Audra’s brain like an

unwelcome pest.

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“What is it? What’s the matter?”

Audra shook her suspicions away. “Nothing . . . I

hope.” She pulled herself up from the curb. “I’ve

got to get to work, Ma—”

“Just a minute. I got something else to say,” Edith

announced, giving her face one last treatment with

the smock’s sleeve before facing Audra. “About

Bradshaw—”

Audra sighed. “He’s not talking to me, Ma.”

“Well, what did you expect? He sends his girlfriend

off a thick slab of dark chocolate and she comes back

a ladyfinger!” Edith exclaimed. “That’s enough to un-

settle any man—”

“I’m not his girlfriend,” Audra interrupted.

“Yes, you are, Audra. And the two of you are the

only ones who don’t know it. Now, shut up and lis-

ten, Audra, because I’m only going to say this

once.” Edith paused, chewing on her lips as though

what she was about to say hurt her more than any of

the prior confessions.

“You were right,” she said slowly, at last. “He’s

your soul mate.”

Chapter 27

Her mind was spinning with a million thoughts:

Ma, Andrew Neill, Art, Laine, Shamiyah and

the Ugly Duckling show . . .

Fortunately, it was the graveyard shift and she

had the perfect assignment: patrolling the quiet cell-

blocks, making sure inmates were safe and quiet, if

not asleep. Other than double-checking doors