ROSE FINISHED THE second loop of her figure eight and skated around the two circles to check the tracings she'd left on the ice. There was a little bobble on the tricky left side. She'd have to do it over. She skated back to her starting point and positioned herself to start again. But she couldn't stop thinking about the years when she was growing up under the curse of her mother's fame. Lu's stardom had made her life at school hell.

It might have been different if there had been boys in her class, but St. Mary's segregated the sexes after the second grade. As her mother got more and more famous, Rose's classmates punished her for it with the viciousness only prepubescent girls can manage. Rose was accused of being stuck up, and everything about her was subject to ridicule. Because she lived with Nonna and had heard broken English all of her life, she spoke with a slight accent herself. It was really more of a little lilt, and most adults found it charming, but Rose's schoolmates mimicked it mercilessly. They made fun of her smile, her walk, and the way she ate—Nonna had taught her to hold her knife and fork European-style. Her school uniform was usually covered with grass stains because someone had “accidentally” bumped into her during recess. She was probably the only girl in school who prayed every day that it would rain so they couldn't go outside.

She discovered quickly that prayer wasn't going to do the trick. And her winning ways that worked so well on adults weren't going to make a dent in the stony hearts of a clique of schoolyard females bent on torture.

The worst of her tormentors was a large girl named Patty O'Brien who had a loud laugh and could play just about any sport. In a class full of girls who were just starting to shed their addiction to horses and to notice boys, she was the most masculine figure around. Patty became a pack leader at St. Mary's, and she picked on Rose mercilessly.

In an act of desperation, Rose attempted to placate the girl with a gift. It was early in the school year—Rose was twelve at the time—and she asked Nonna to bake an applesauce cake so she could take it to school. Her grandmother happily obliged, not only with the cake but a dozen cookies. She woke up before dawn to bake goodies so they'd be fresh from her oven, lovingly packed them in a bread basket lined with one of her best white linen napkins, and handed the basket to Rose.