At Linwood Park, where Patty sometimes organized athletics for the kids, Connie sat by herself on the grass, unbored, her hands fashioning a clover-flower ring for nobody, and let the minutes stream past her until Joey took his turn at bat or moved the soccer ball down the field and quickened her interest momentarily.
On half a hectare of sloping clover meadow rises a surreal construction of dozens of red towers, conical as beehives, some of them four or five stories high.