Welcome to TRB Lounge! We’re thrilled to host author Suzie Leonie today, who will be unveiling an exciting excerpt from her book, Ivan, Boris and Me. Dive in and get an exclusive sneak peek into this amazing read!

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About the Book

You can find Evan, Boris and Me here:
Amazon | Goodreads

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Excerpt

4.

Boris: When we call in on our new neighbor, we have to bring dessert.

Elodie: I need to finish my work. I don’t have time to make anything extravagant.

Boris: It’s impolite to arrive somewhere without dessert.

Elodie: We aren’t even sure our new neighbor likes dessert.

Boris: You can’t bring the worst part of the meal and not the best.

Elodie: What do you mean?

Boris: You have to get through the savory to be rewarded with the sweet.

Elodie: That is not my experience.

Boris: But it is how it is.

Elodie: We have to agree to disagree on that.

Boris: No, we don’t.

Elodie: What if the neighbor agrees with me and isn’t a fan of dessert?

Boris: That isn’t going to be a problem. If he doesn’t like it, I will eat it all.

Elodie: Aren’t you planning to leave any for me at least?

Boris: Not necessarily.

Elodie: So, the dessert is actually for you then, not for our new neighbor?

Boris: You didn’t hear me say that.

Elodie: No, of course not.

Boris: It’s settled then. What are you going to make?

Elodie: I’m never going to win with you, am I? Why do I even try?

I find enough ingredients in my pantry and fridge to make a three-cheese lasagna and a two-tiered mango coconut cake for dessert. I spread them out, so everything is waiting for me on the counter while I add the last few details to my current illustration. I put down my pencils and admire the work. These pictures are turning out beautifully. My celebrity client came up with his own candy-based family a gift to his kids and, as an added bonus, an easy way to pad his bank account. The Lollipoppets hop around on one foot. Their bodies are rectangular-shaped with two bear ears at the top and cutout circles for their faces. Their eyes consist of a simple white rim with a black dot inside, and their mouths are made of small pieces of stringed licorice. I like their names: Molli Lolli, the indigo, grape-flavored one; Dolli Lolli, the pink, raspberry-flavored one; Polli Lolli, the tangerine, orange-flavored one; and Rolli Lolli, the brown, cola-flavored one. The project isn’t a chore. After all, the Lollipoppets are exactly what they’re supposed to be—cute, whimsical, and delightful. Boris likes them as well. Every time I finish a picture, he looks at it for at least half an hour, cautiously studying the details.

Before I can put my supplies away, Boris skips over to the table. I hurry to cover everything up and keep my work out of harm’s way, careful to prevent any smears from ending up on it. Boris isn’t the most prudent when there’s food around. He might even see staining my drawings as a contribution with intrinsic artistic value, and there would be no time to start over.

“My Melody Elodie, please read your story to me from the beginning. I like the Lollipoppets.”

“Boris, sweetie, we don’t have time. I need to prepare dinner.”

“Ten extra minutes won’t make a difference. I like the story. Please, please, please.”

I already know where this is going, and to avoid more discussion, I begin to read. “Once upon a time there were a Momma and a Poppa Lollipoppet called Molli and Rolli Lolli. They had two little Lollipoppet girls that they named Dolli and Polli. They were happy together, but something was missing from their lives; they were a bit lonely. Why do you think that was, Boris?”

“Because there weren’t any other Lollipoppets for them to play with!”

“Exactly, and that is why they started a search. First, they looked under the couch, then under the table, then upstairs under the bed. Unfortunately, there were no other Lollipoppets to be found anywhere. That is why they had to take their first steps into the wide world outside of Chocolate Cottage, which is where they lived. What do you think happened next?”

“They ran into other sweets, like Taffee the Toffee and Bubblegum Bert, who helped them search, but to no avail. They didn’t meet a single Lollipoppet. They looked behind every candy cane on Candy Cane Lane and didn’t find any Lollipoppets there either. When they finally reached the end of the street, they were getting tired from hopping long distances, but they were persistent and crossed the wide Popcorn Playground anyway. Their reward was meeting Winegum William at the other end, who knew where they were supposed to go. Together they hopped to the Fruit-Flavored Forest, where they finally found two other Lollipoppets in Caramel Cabin, the green, apple-flavored Jolli and the red, strawberry-flavored Tolli. They hugged each other and played together, soon becoming best friends. And then they did a hoppy dance and lived hoppily ever after.”

“I don’t even have to read it to you anymore. You already know the story by heart.”

“My Melody Elodie, I like it. Can we keep the drawings?”

“Unfortunately not, but as soon as the book comes out, the publisher will send us a copy.”

“But I love the Lollipoppets. I don’t want you to give them away.”

“I’ll throw together a booklet with some of my sample drawings for you, so we can keep reading once I’m done with the project.”

“Okay. Can I eat a piece of cake now?”

“After dinner. Why don’t you tell me who your favorite Lollipoppet is while I’m cooking?”

“I like Tolli the most because he is red, and I have red-and-white-striped clothes. Can you hang a picture of him above my bed? Will you draw one for me?”

“Sure, why not.”

Boris does cartwheels in the kitchen as a response. The space is small, and he barrels right into me, knocking the chopping board and knife I used to cut the vegetables from the counter. Fortunately, I’d already put the lasagna into the oven and only spill leftover vegetable juices on the floor. I set the timer before mopping up the mess. Then I open the back door and give Boris a little shove into the garden. There’s a big porch swing we like to sit on together. Boris loves it. “My Melody Elodie, can you push as hard as you can?”

“Of course.” The swing creaks precariously, but it’s sturdy and strong enough to hold us both. Boris pulls his nose away from his face as far as the elastic will stretch, and when I stick out my tongue in response, he howls with laughter. We are making a lot of noise, and apparently that is something our new neighbor doesn’t appreciate. I can see the top half of his face over the fence, and his grimace is even more prominent than it was earlier in the day. Boris says hello and smiles, but my new neighbor doesn’t acknowledge him, and the captivatingly gleeful expression on Boris’s face turns sour instead. I better take my clown inside and give him some fudge. I normally don’t allow him to eat sweets before a meal, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

I hope I’m doing the right thing by bringing my neighbor dinner after this brief but telling display of displeasure. I don’t have long to think about it, though, because the timer on the oven pings, and I want the food to be hot when I deliver it. I grab a towel to protect my hands from the heat and put the clear glass dish onto the counter. “Boris, it’s time for us to go.”

“My Melody Elodie, do I have to come? I don’t like our new neighbor very much. He looks mean.”

“I’m sure there’s a good reason for him to be grumpy. Let’s give the man the benefit of the doubt, and if he’s distant to us again, we can always leave. It’s possible that he needs to warm up to us because he’s an introvert.” Boris shrugs, which means he’s heard the message but isn’t buying it. I’m not sure if I am either. Our new neighbor frightens me a little. He’s kind of strange and stand-offish. I like a challenge and appreciate a good enigma, but I prefer for them to not be too far out of my comfort zone.

There’s a path that connects the gardens in our cul-de-sac, and since it’s easier to reach my neighbor’s house with my hands full and a clown by my side that way, I decide to risk going around the back. I have to balance both the lasagna and the cake, while simultaneously needing to pay attention not to trip over Boris’s feet when we both squeeze through the narrow entrance of my neighbor’s property at the same time.

Fortunately for us, the man is still outside. He’s sitting on an expensive wooden lounge set covered in thick, luxurious pillows with his legs stretched out in front of him. The construction looks sturdy. It is made of teak and it probably cost more than I make in three months. It’s way too big for the relatively small-sized patio though and covers the entire width and more than half of the length.

“Hello again. I hope we aren’t interrupting, but we thought we’d welcome you to the neighborhood. As moving takes a lot of energy and you probably still have plenty to do, we brought you dinner.”

My neighbor’s scowl turns into a wistful gaze for a moment, which disappears almost as quickly as it appears. The change happens so fast I don’t even know if it’s actually real or solely a figment of my imagination.

“My Melody Elodie, the neighbor still isn’t nice. I don’t want to stay.” My clown is already fretting. I hope he’ll be patient enough to at least give the man a chance.

Boris turns around, ready to walk out. However, that’s when the new neighbor finally holds out his hand. I put my offerings on the outdoor coffee table and shake it. While his fingers are warm and dry, his grip isn’t as firm as I expected it to be. I quickly withdraw when I experience a jolt of electricity. It’s zinging through me like the shock I received when I was thirteen and hurt myself switching on a broken blender with a faulty wire. I check my palm and see the skin is undamaged. I must have been the only one who felt it, because my neighbor looks unperturbed.

“Please excuse my bad manners. I’m Ivan, and I’m not used to unannounced visitors. My house is still a mess, so I have nothing to offer you yet. Although I do appreciate your kind gesture.” He’s pointing at the food. “Thank you very much.” Ivan picks up the dishes and walks away with them. I stand there on his porch, flabbergasted, not sure what to do with myself.

“That man is weird. He didn’t even ask us to come in. I was hoping he’d give me a glass of lemonade.” Boris is clearly disappointed.

I’m about to leave when Ivan steps outside once more. “I’m sorry I’m not more hospitable, but I am grateful and shall return the kitchenware to you tomorrow.” With another one of his curt nods, he walks back into the house and leaves me and Boris standing, gaping like two unsightly river pikes. Boris is right, Ivan is odd. At least he’s accepted my food. I don’t want to judge my new neighbor based on two brief impressions; maybe the man has a good reason for his sullenness. However, Boris isn’t as forgiving.

“This garden is ugly. It only has boring gray tiles, and there is nothing for me to play with. Can we go now?” Boris grabs my elbow and pulls me along with him. He starts to run, and despite his huge feet, he’s gathering too much speed for me to keep up. This time I trip over a loose tree root close to the gate. I have to hold on to the recently replaced woodwork to stay upright, and even though the hinges manage to hold my weight, they bend out of shape. Great, the first time we’ve been to my new neighbor’s house, Boris and I were snubbed, and I’ve already wrecked something. Why can’t I be the epitome of grace, the sophisticated elegant lady who wows everyone around her with her timeless beauty and poise? My sister-in-law Andrea has all these qualities, but my mother is right, I don’t possess any of them.

I’ll somehow have to find the cash to replace that fence, which means accepting even more commissions. It’s going to be a struggle to add to my already overflowing schedule, but I have done it before. Sleep is overrated anyway. I wipe the moisture from my eyes and soldier on.

“My Melody Elodie, are you mad at me?” Boris has done nothing wrong. He shouldn’t be the victim of my overdramatic tendencies.

“Of course not, sweetheart, accidents can happen.” It’s too bad that they always happen to me and Boris though.

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About The Author

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