The table was set for four when a friend called from the corner. We found another chair, moved the flowers to the windowsill, and cut the bread into slightly thinner slices.
Dinner did not become more elaborate. It became longer. Someone made tea, someone found a record, and a conversation that began over the first bowl was still going when we cleared the last plate.
I am trying to remember that feeling when I worry about hosting. A generous evening can start with what is already in the kitchen.