CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Sara came over to my apartment and Trixie came with her. As promised, I was making dinner. I was using the Instant Pot Sara had given me the past Christmas. Usually, I preferred preparing my gourmet creations the old school way. But since I’d napped longer than intended, I had resorted to the Instant Pot. Desperate times call for desperate measures. I knelt down to greet Trixie. She gave me several wet doggie kisses and then sat on the floor beside me on her haunches with her mouth open and her tongue hanging out, ever alert to the possibility I might accidentally drop a morsel of food on the floor.
“You’re using the Instant Pot,” Sara said. She had come from work and looked very shrinky in a black jacket with a faint chalk stripe over a pink tee with matching black
