When Rose had moved to New York she'd quit skating, because it brought back memories of Nonna, New Haven, and everything that had been taken from her. But in the last six months she'd started it again, coming to Rockefeller Center in the morning and putting in two hours of practice. At least it got her out of her mother's apartment.

She leaned into her edge, hoping that would give her the momentum to get around the circle. It was funny how the old memories came back when she was on the ice. The pain of losing Nonna was as sharp today as it had been five years ago, and the anger at her mother—would that ever stop?

In a way, the seeds for that anger had been planted when Rose was still in her stroller. Every afternoon Nonna would dress Rose in one of her beautiful little dresses—hand smocked and embroidered by Nonna's seamstress—and take Rose for a walk around the block. They soon developed a fan club of neighbors who watched for the lovely little girl and her proud grandmother making their daily promenade. “Che bellissima,” Rose heard throughout her childhood. “God bless her, what a beautiful child, Mrs. Leporello. You must be so proud.” Hands would reach down to pinch Rose's perfect little cheeks, or her sweet little fingers would be kissed. She learned early not to pull back or cry. If she stayed still and smiled just a little, she got even more praise. Little Rose liked praise—a lot.

But when she was six, her life changed. Before that, her mother had been an intruder in her world, but not a very important one. Lu would show up to have Sunday dinner, fight with Nonna about missing Mass, and in general take up Nonna's time and attention, but then she'd go away again. There had been an incident in Mal-ley's department store when people had rushed around Lu and ignored Rose, which Rose had resented, but for the first six years of Rose's life, Lu was still relatively unknown. Then she became a big Broadway star. Suddenly Rose's claim to fame wasn't her own beauty, or her gracious way of handling admiration; now it was that she was Lu Lawson's daughter. The little girl who had had her own fan club while she was still in her stroller hadn't liked that one bit. All these years later, Rose could still remember the night when her mother's big break had happened. Rose had been in the audience to see it.

Lu had had a new show opening at the Shubert Theater. This was nothing new—every year or so her mother was in a new show. But this time Nonna had announced that they were going to see Lu perform. Nonna had never approved of her daughter's profession, but it seemed this play was special. For one thing, Lu had called long distance to beg her mother to attend the opening night.