My father, Richard Bennett, set his cordless screwdriver down on the oak floorboards and tightened the last nickel bolt on the second crib.

He straightened his silk tie knot, checked his watch, and brushed a speck of dust off his shirt sleeve.

“The solid maple frame is anchored right into the brick wall studs,” Richard said.

“Those cribs are as sturdy as a federal courthouse bench.”

He reached into his charcoal jacket pocket and took out a sealed white envelope from First National Bank.

“Your new business debit card arrived at my office this morning,” he said.