The restaurant owner, a broad man named Frank, walked down the row of tables with a heavy wooden chair in each hand.

He set the chairs down and ran his palm across the top of the wood.

“The surface is smooth,” Frank said.

“The old pine tables used to snag the linen napkins every night.”

“We sanded them down to the clear grain,” Caroline said, standing up and putting her wrench into her tool apron.

“Then we put on three coats of water-resistant sealer.”

Frank reached into his canvas apron pocket and pulled out a thick paper bank envelope.