I swallowed hard.

I was glad Mark had improved.

I was also sad that a child had learned to treat reliability as something extraordinary.

That night our guests crowded around the table.

Someone knocked over a glass of cider, the roast potatoes came out too crisp, and the neighbor told a story so funny that I laughed until my face hurt.

At one point I looked around and noticed that no one was measuring the evening by the value of the furniture or the size of the room.

They were simply glad to be together.