Holiday Potluck {Open to All}

[Jeremy Derenstein]

Holiday Potluck Dinner

Vermont Pride, Volunteers of America Vermont, People with AIDS Coalition of Vermont & Vermont PFLAG will be co-hosting a Holiday Potluck Dinner on December 21st, open and inclusive to all!

Main Dishes (turkey, ham, tofurkey) and beverages will be provided. Bring a potluck dish to share and join us for good food, games, and friends. Even if you can’t bring a dish, we want you here!

Potluck items by Last Name:
Appetizers: A – G
Salads & Side Dishes: H – M
Desserts: N – Z
Vegan and vegetarian items are also needed!

Jeremy Derenstein had been at the Pilot Ridge LGBT center late last evening and early this morning. The faculty there knew him as an avid volunteer, especially when the big events came around: the holiday dinner wasn’t quite the size of its Thanksgiving counterpart, but it was still bound to pull in some heavy traffic. He’d been putting up the decorations, pushing cafeteria tables around, mopping, organizing…he was no slouch in the cooking department, either, and he’d brought his own eleven pound turkey for the occasion. Despite the work, it brought him joy. He’d his own long history with the center and its struggling youth, and his activism insured him a part in its tight-knit family. He was all festive cheer and bright smiles.

The day of was appropriately cold. It bit at the ears and the tips of noses, and swirled scarves around necks. But this only made the facility more hospitable. An orange glow peered through the industrial double doors’ windows, a barrier against the chill, though it gave once or twice to let the disenfranchised in: all those who, more likely than not, had no family or no finances with which to celebrate the holiday. In minutes there were hats and coats lined up and snow tracked across the floor.

Of course Jeremy knew that the local Hammel Institute would bring its own crowd. He had known it for quite some time. The center saw many of the meta youth come and go, and Jeremy usually kept his own misgivings to himself, kept it on the down-low…the political field was another matter, but the kids here needed a place free of politics. He knew this.

Erik, who showed nothing of his altercation last month but a few yellow splotches on his right cheekbone, appeared with his supervisor in tow (recent events required him to have one, every time he stepped outside school boundaries). He’d come to the Pilot Ridge LGBT center the year before, and the year before that, though he’d been absent from this year’s Thanksgiving dinner; he was somewhat known around the facility, as much as someone could be when they only came around a few times a year.
“I didn’t bring anything,” he said, stopping in front of the door.
“That’s fine.” Jeremy held it open; as the boy passed, he let out a sigh. “It is inclusive. That’s what the flier says.”
Obviously, the insinuation went right over Erik’s head; he walked into the center’s wide auditorium to seek shelter from the cold.

As the welcome wagon, Jeremy stood out front for the next thirty minutes, give or take a few. He rubbed his hands together; adjusted the wool hat on his head. His breath came out in puffs. When the next arrival came, perhaps stooped over by the chilly north-eastern winter, Jeremy would give them a smile and a greeting.

“Welcome!” he said. “Here for dinner?”

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean had volunteered at the LGBT Youth Center for many years, and he tried to attend as many events as he was able to do. Both he and Josh had agreed at the beginning of the season that they would go to the potluck, particularly since the event was in line with the telepath’s general philosophy about holidays for those without families. This year, they had been assigned to dishes by name, and Josh had drawn an appetizer while Sean had been responsible for a dessert. Since the attorney baked but couldn’t cook, they had agreed to invoke one of the privileges of living together and had swapped assignments.

The telepath had chosen to make two appetizers, one of which qualified as vegan, and the other which did not. Homemade bruschetta with olives, tomato, and vinaigrette, and toasted ravioli, some of which contained meat and some of which contained cheese. There was more than enough for everyone who had RSVPed, and then for more than that, assuming they brought guests or there were other late arrivals.

Sean had taken the time to wrap everything in decorative wrapping and dishes, and then he had driven himself, his partner, and their food to the Center.

Upon arriving, they were greeted by Jeremy, one of the other volunteers, and Sean returned the smile. “We are here for supper. Where can we set these down and help set up?”

[Angie Flores]

Catering to voters meant, occasionally (read, frequently), going to public events and talking to people. She wasn't trying to get elected to a high position, not really, but that made it all the more important to get out and actually get talking to people. She was pretty, she could be friendly, and she could listen. People tended to remember those kinds of things, and if they could remember them when they went up to the polls, so much the better.

The LGBT community in particular was a large part of life in Pilot Ridge, and although she knew she should be courting voters in larger areas as well, this had the benefit of being close to home. She'd invited Marcus, but he said he didn't like it when she got all 'senatorial' and had decided to stay at a friend's house instead. With the Wii. She couldn't blame him for this, and so had left him at home and arrived, in a nice set of black slacks and a deep purple top, with a stack of cupcakes. She shuffled into line (she hated the heels she had on, but it was part of the look) behind a man who seemed vaguely familiar and waited, until she heard the voice.

"Sean?" She knew him both from Hammel and through Josh Bernstein whom, thankfully, she'd never had to argue against but just saw around the courtroom. The law community in Pilot Ridge wasn't exactly large--besides, he was also running for some position, wasn't he? "Nice to see you again. I'm here for dinner too," she added to the attractive--and most likely unavailable--man outside. "I brought dessert. Homemade. Just ignore the, ah, yellow. My son decorated them." And had gotten rather enthusiastic with the food dye. They looked like someone had exploded a balloon full of multicolored paint over them. But Marcus had enjoyed himself.

[Jeremy Derenstein]

The event was underway, and soon Jeremy would leave his post to join them. He’d greeted and herded in what he thought were the stragglers, until Sean, Josh and Angie came along.

Angie he didn’t quite know, but he knew Sean well enough – and not only through his volunteer work here. Jeremy was aware that he was a member of the Hammel faculty, a cornerstone of meta activity, as it were; Jeremy didn’t think him an adversary nor anything quite so melodramatic, but any representative from that school still left a sour taste in his mouth. There were all manner of unnatural goings-on there. There were fire wielders, hypnotizers, girls and boys who could turn into tigers – he’d even heard that Sean himself could pry into the minds of unwitting, simple folk. Jeremy didn’t know if he’d seen his own thoughts yet. He’d been nothing but cordial to his fellow volunteer, after all, and his work was less visible than Sean’s; most here went unaware of his ‘strictly’ political views.

“Actually, let me take that,” he said, reaching out to take his plate. “I’ll find a spot for it. I’m glad you two could make it. We’ve got a big operation going on here – more turkeys than we can handle.”
He spared an extra bright smile for Josh, then glanced at the food. “So what’s this?”

With one hand holding up the plate, he stepped back to open the industrial double doors. A rush of warm air bellowed outwards. Snowy, mushy footprints tracked the tile floor on the way to the dining room. Before Sean and Josh could step foot inside, though, Jeremy spoke up.

“Hold up,” he said, then nodded in Angie’s direction. “Ladies first.”

[Joshua Bernstein]

Josh offered Jeremy a smile in return. Although he was aware of the existence of PUSE, he was blissfully ignorant of the younger man's involvement. In fact, he'd rather liked his fellow volunteer on the occasions they'd interacted, taking note of his kind demeanor towards the youth.

Patient and gentle, Josh had thought, like Sean.

When Jeremy took the appetizers, the attorney hefted the covered platter he had brought. "Should I follow you, then...?"

He'd baked a white chocolate and cranberry cake, not wrapped as prettily as Sean's offerings. He'd done his best, but presentation required more patience than was available to him.

The admonition they allow Angie to enter first elicited an, "Oh! Of course," as he stepped aside to allow her to go through, turning his smile to her. "And Angie! What a pleasant surprise!"

[Deleted]

This was a bad idea. Adam thought so from the moment the suggestion fell form the lips of the open he dared to call "ma". But form the time he was a tiny tot, Adam had volunteered every Christmas for many many things, soup kitchens mostly, but this year his ma wanted him to try something different and volunteer down at the Youth LGBT center for their holiday potluck. And of course, she would make the contribution, a very lovely assortment of chips and salsa to add to the potluck, so long as Adam showed up.

Shiit, why didn't Greg have to do this? That was so stupid, a complete double standard in this wise one's opinion.

But damn if Adam wasn't going to be antsy and uncomfortable the whole time, especially if any of those 'youths' decided to cross those boundaries that Adam had so eloquently put up.

He walked in, not recognizing even a single person. Hell, they were all old dudes even! Adam thought this was supposed to be a youth center!

"Oy, uh, wheredaya want this, man, sir? Uh, sir?" He held up the dishes of appetizers to one of the dudes who looked important.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean smiled at Angie who arrived behind them. He would have waved, but as both of his hands were tasked with holding the appetizer dishes, he was prevented from doing so. “Angie! It’s good to see you! And what did you bring?”

He could peek, of course, but what was the point in doing that? It wasn’t as though the dishes were a secret.

However, with Jeremy’s remark, the telepath turned his attention to the younger man. He handed the appetizer dishes over, as requested. “I can help organize, if you’d like.”

He’d heard something, but he didn’t frown. Not here, not in front of other people. It wasn’t altogether unusual for people, even other members of disenfranchised groups, to judge him for his telepathy and to be wary of him as a result. The fact that other meta-humans did that, sometimes even other psychics did that, made him long-used to it. Still, just as people were wary of him for what he could do, Sean became wary based on what he perceived, which meant that he and Jeremy would have to interact a bit more.

The younger man was usually behind the scenes, and so they didn’t have many extended conversations.

For now, however, it was time to focus on the potluck. “It’s always better to have too many than not enough, and I’m sure we’ll make good use of the leftovers.” He didn’t step forward, letting Angie go first, as had been requested.

[Angie Flores]

Angie shifted her weight slightly to hold the tray in one hand and offered a wave. She'd done waitress work to pay her bills in college, and between that and being a single mother, she'd made sure to keep the habit of balancing things on one hand. It was an exceptionally useful one to have.

"Hello Josh!" she said cheerfully. "Didn't see you there. It's wonderful to see you both--especially in a non-legal setting. I brought cupcakes." She shrugged. "It didn't fit into the way the potluck was supposed to work, but Marcus had his heart set on them and I haven't learned how to tell him no yet." Not quite true, but when a young boy was interested in learning to cook something Angie thought it was best not to argue over the what. She blinked at the man, not used to being thought of as a lady--other than the bitchy-prosecutor-lady from some of her nastier trials--then offered him a smile. "Thank you." She slipped in, offering a friendly nod on her way past to the young blonde man. "Looks good," she offered, then smiled at Jeremy and hovered by the entrance to wait for the others.

[Jeremy Derenstein]

Jeremy smiled pleasantly at Angie as she passed through. He had never seen her before. Even when Sean and Josh spoke her name, he only found it vaguely familiar, being the politically involved man he was; it was a good thing too, for he would have surely taken umbrage to a meta operating within the legal system. “No problem,” he said.

When a fourth party showed up – an Adam Anderson, also whom he didn’t recall seeing much of around here – with another proffered plate, he simply moved aside to let him in. Jeremy had more dishes than he knew what to do with. “I’m past waiting tables, I’m only taking one at a time,” he said, but he was pleased: his smile grew big and bright. “We have a lot of new faces tonight – good thing we have enough for everybody. Welcome to the center.”

Jeremy held out his hand, though the plate in his opposite shook a little.

After he’d ushered them all in, Jeremy shut the double doors (and, effectively, the cold). He was sure any other newcomers could find their way in. It was only two doors down the hallway to the large cafeteria; they could all hear the hum of conversation, the sporadic sound of laughter. Warm yellow light flooded out into the tile hall. The ceilings were decorated with green, white and red banners.

He led them to a table full of dishes; and sitting pretty at the center of the table was one of the turkeys. Another volunteer was already involved in cutting the meat. Jeremy found a spot for Sean’s plate, though it took some jostling around.

Straightening up, he fixed them all with another smile. It was like staring into headlights. “Thanks for coming here tonight, and thanks for making these for the kids. It can get really tough around the holiday season, you know. The counselors are always stretched way thin this time of year. It’s good to give them a chance to eat the same kinda food everyone else gets at home.” He’d know a lot about that, of course.

“Let’s see. You two know me.” He meant Sean and Josh, and looked pointedly in their direction, still pleasant as ever…though he wondered what it was like to be involved with someone who could read his thoughts whenever they wanted to. “But I don’t think I’ve introduced myself to the rest of you yet. I’m Jeremy – just a simple volunteer here, but I can answer most questions you got, if you have them. Otherwise, enjoy yourselves.”

[Joshua Bernstein]

Josh followed Jeremy over to the tables set up for the potluck, finding the dessert area and carefully arranging his cake in the center. Other people could place their desserts around his; he'd spent so much time on it, he wanted to show off just a little, even if that wasn't exactly the point of this endeavor.

Once his offering was in place he made his way back to Sean, leaning slightly against the older man while Jeremy gave his introduction. "It's so nice that we're able to help with this," He whispered, then glanced around to see if he recognized anyone else there. The greasy looking teen he didn't recognize, which was all for the good for the peace of this dinner; the sullen looking young adult, not much older than the youths the center served.

Not too many teens yet; he was sure that would change, though. It only made sense for the volunteers to arrive before anyone else.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean also followed behind Jeremy, remaining in step behind Angie and beside his partner. However, when Adam arrived, he offered the young blond man a smile. “Adam!” He remarked with delight, “It’s been too long.”

Adam’s parents lived in the telepath’s neighborhood, although not on his cul-de-sac. Having been neighbors with the Andersons for many years, Adam, as a child, had found himself in Sean’s charge on more than one occasion. The psychiatrist had babysat for so many of the neighborhood children, who had also invariably trick-or-treated at his house, and he had fond memories of Adam as a boy.

Of course, he was no longer a boy.

“Come with us. Jeremy is showing us where to put our food.”

With that, the telepath ushered Adam into their group, for the walk to the back where the banquet was spread out. While there wasn’t much food at the moment, Sean wasn’t discouraged. There remained plenty of time for people to arrive with their dishes.

“I’ll need to sample what everyone brought,” he announced. This included Josh’s cake, although he had no concerns that there would be more than enough. Josh always made sure that the telepath was able to sample his wares.

To his partner, Sean remarked quietly, "It is nice. They provide such vital services." The children surely appreciated the events, and Pilot Ridge was better for the existence of the Youth Center.

[Deleted]

Adam gave the important looking dude a nod when he was greeted. "Thanks, man. I, uh…It's my first time coming to one of these…here, at this place of…understanding!" Yeah, Adam didn't sound like a douche at all. He mentally shook his fist at his mother for making him come here. Not that it was a bad thing for him to be here, and he had nothing, completely nothing against these guys, not like it was right to refer to them as 'these guys', but Adam was just a little bugged out and afraid some cool looking chick might get the wrong idea about him simply because he was here and not somewhere else….

He didn't notice Sean right away, at least not until he was greeted with a hearty greeting. "Dr. N! I totally did not recognize you from behind, it must be the hair or something." Adam gave the older man a wave with a pointed nod of acknowledgement.

At the doctor's urgings, Adam took a breath and essentially followed the crowd, putting on his best "I'm happy to be here" face. Well, at the moment he was a little(lot) more happy for simply having a recognizable face to draw comfort from. Adam had many good memories of hide and seek with the psychiatrist when he was babysitting the pint-sized Adam. And Adam would swear up and down that this guy was psychic or something, because he could always pinpoint where Adam was, even in his best hiding spots!

Adam deposited his contribution on the table of food and gravitated towards the people(person) he found familiar, lingering while the headman-person-dude spoke.