E-I-E-I-Oh [Sean]

[Tomer Berelowitz]

Classmates had remarked that Tomer was much more like a 40-year-old than a 16-year-old. He'd reply that he didn't pay bills, drive a car, have a job, or live independently, and they'd consider the point proven. Without the cheerful chaos of his family, Tomer's life was quite structured and orderly, and he liked it very much. He got up at six a.m. every day, even on weekends, refreshed Clover's hay and water bowl, dressed, and if there was school he went to class and if there wasn't he did homework till lunchtime. He always cut his lunch short so he could go back to his room to play with Clover a little, and then did either afternoon classes, tutoring, homework, read, Skype with his family, or visit Uncle Josh and Sean. All of it could be nicely laid out in his planner. With hormones and his power as unpredictable as they were, routine was very comforting.

If... sometimes a little boring. With his anxiety and how his power built up if things bumped into him, Tomer didn't get out a great deal, but both his parents and his trainer said it wasn't good for him. So, farmer's market. With Sean. Who he could call Sean without worrying about it. He looked forward to getting some fresh veggies for Clover... and maybe a bundle of kale to scare Harmony with, he didn't know. But it felt good to be out in the fresh air, accompanied by someone who was the complete opposite of his uncle and mother.

Walking slowly, careful his crutches didn't trip anyone (including himself), he looked around, still enjoying not having the neck brace. Boy had that been awful. "What do you usually get?" he asked Sean. "Does Uncle Josh want anything?"

[Dr. Sean Neville]

One had to admire the dedication of Vermonters, impervious to cold weather and intent on enjoying fresh vegetables, Amish baked goods, and the particular items sold only in such venues. With St. Patrick’s Day and Easter both on the horizon within the next two weeks, all manner of special goodies and wares were for sale.

Sean had a list in his pocket.

He had offered to take Tomer out, while Josh went to Temple and then visited his parents. Bobby had been having more difficulty recently, which required more assistance from their middle child, and fewer visitors over all. The telepath had dropped his partner off at Temple and encouraged him to call when he needed a ride home, but, until then, he was free to shop and to chaperone Tomer on his little field trip.

Notably, Sean hadn’t shaved this morning, for the first time in a long while. It would take a day or two for the stubble to build up into something offensive, and, by Monday, he would have to explain to his coworkers, but, for now, it didn’t matter. He had his reasons.

Despite his long stride, he kept a slow pace, so that he didn’t walk too far ahead of Tomer; that wouldn’t do. “I promised to bring back something sweet for Uncle Josh,” he explained. “But I’m in charge of the rest of the groceries.”

By which he meant that he was better at picking out fresh produce than his partner was.

“I like to get a little bit of everything. But where would you like to start?” Any booth would do.

[Tomer Berelowitz]

Tomer felt bad for not always going to synagogue with Uncle Josh, but his temple was a little more conservative than the one he went to in New York, plus, the unfamiliar crowd made him a bit nervous. And he felt guilty about not going with to see his grandparents, too, but Grandpa wasn't doing well and he'd just get in the way.

...Tomer was not shaved either, but no one could tell. By Monday, he might have a few widely-spaced scraggly hairs trying to make a go at it while the rest of his face follicles peeked just enough to look like a faint bruise, but he wasn't about to go out like that.

"Sweet like fruit or sweet like a cake?" he smiled a little. "It's good you're in charge. I bet Uncle Josh could come here and still get home with Pop-Tarts." Along with whatever was the least nutritious thing to make sandwiches out of. Possibly maple syrup.

Where to start? Tomer grinned. "At the beginning."

He'd never been, and Sean said he wanted a variety, so going through methodically and seeing everything would be nice.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

As far as Sean was concerned, Tomer was family, and, in return, he was Tomer’s family. That came not only from the fact that Josh and the telepath were a couple, but also from the fact that, decades ago, Charlie and Bobby Bernstein had taken Sean in, treating him almost as a fourth child. All of that said, he wouldn’t give reassurances about missing religious services (not his place and less than comforting as a gentile and an atheist) or about not visiting Bobby unless Tomer brought it up, or unless Josh, David, or Talia requested it of him.

Instead he would focus on helping to distract the teenager.

“I promised him sweet like a cake or cookies, but I plan to buy fruit too.” Half the fun of farmers’ markets was the wide variety of fresh fruits, even in the late winter/early spring, as opposed to summer, when fruits were at their peak.

He then chuckled at the comment; he could tease his partner about his eating habits, or poke gentle fun in his absence. “I’m sure he would. They sell homemade Pop Tarts here sometimes.” The psychiatrist did not intend to buy those; he had been trying to wean Josh off Pop Tarts for years.

With Tomer’s stated preference, he inclined his head a single time. “The beginning it is. Let’s get to Tent A.” With that, he gestured towards the tent closest to the parking lot, forming one end of the semi-circle configuration.

[Tomer Berelowitz]

The tents reminded Tomer of a circus, as did the very slight smell of earth. But the lightly bitter scents of the fresh vegetables and neverending tables full of produce were all the market. Tomer immediately spotted parsley, but only because Clover liked it and he'd bought enough that he knew it on sight.

"The cookies here'll probably be healthier than store ones." Thinking a moment, he asked, "Does Uncle Josh make cookies? I've only seen cakes."

Homemade Pop-Tarts. Tomer had seen those online, but having them here to buy was like, near-peak hipster. Especially if they were gluten free, organic, and grass fed. He didn't know how that last part would happen, but he was sure someone would figure it out.

Into the first tent, the long tables and handmade signs made him smile. It was like a rummage sale but better. No possible tetanus.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

The tents reminded Sean of the farmer’s market, since he tried to visit at least once each month to stock up the pantry, the refrigerator, and to buy a few treats for home and at work. The familiarity made him happy, since he liked routine, albeit not as much as Tomer did.

“That depends on what cookies you buy at the store,” he replied, and at what store. The telepath bought better quality cookies than Josh did, when his partner was left to his own devices, which already set the bar for “healthier” higher with Sean’s purchases. Butter and heavy sugar contained no additional preservatives all factors equal, but they were still butter and sugar. He then smiled at the question, nodding once in confirmation. “Uncle Josh makes cookies, also brownies, pies, and some pastries.”

Josh had turned into quite the amateur baker over the past four years, and Sean was so proud of him for that. Not to mention that the telepath benefited from the other man’s labor. No, he wasn’t as good as Riley or Ari, but, then again, neither was Sean, and he had been baking for decades longer than his partner had.

Stepping into the first tent, Sean took a moment to look around, until he saw a nearby stand selling heads of cabbage and bushels of kale. Perfect. “I need this table,” he told Tomer, gesturing with his elbow at the table in question.

[Tomer Berelowitz]

"True. I think I saw Oreos in his cupboard once." As one who didn't cook, Tomer didn't know if Oreos were worse for a person than homemade chocolate chip. They had more artificial ingredients, but it could've been those were balanced out by the aforementioned butter and sugar.

Wow, pastries even? "He'll have to bake something for a holiday," Tomer decided. "Then maybe Mom will stop doubting." And Dad too. And Uncle Matt. And Grandma. "Has he made Grandma's rugelach yet?"

Turning where Sean motioned... curious. The man's Irish heritage was rarely at the forefront of Tomer's mind, though he knew he celebrated St. Patrick's Day with the traditional boil. Tomer liked corned beef and cabbage, but he liked it for the taste, not, as his male cousins (and sometimes Vivy) liked it, for the fact it led to farting contests later.

Gently brushing his fingers over a light green globe, Tomer nodded approvingly. (And oh, it was still so good to nod!) Bunnies could eat cabbage, but, like with radish tops and broccoli, they sometimes made Clover's stomach gurgle. "What's the kale for?"

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“He likes Oreos,” Sean confirmed. In truth, so did Sean, since they were a quick and easy source of glucose, and, with his sweet tooth, more satisfying than crackers, even if Saltines did in a pinch. Still, he preferred home-baked cookies to America’s Favorite Cookie.

“He and I made hamantaschen last Purim,” the psychiatrist pointed out. “And rugelach for Chanukah. Your parents shouldn’t doubt his abilities.” True, Josh had yet to translate that into a willingness to cook beyond baking, but nobody could fairly deny that the attorney baked well these days.

In fairness, Sean’s Irish heritage was rarely at the forefront of anyone’s mind; the telepath’s family had been thoroughly Americanized for generations, and he preferred to acknowledge his heritage in subtler ways, particularly since he had abandoned the Catholic Church (and, as he told it, it had abandoned him) close to thirty-five years ago. He wore a Claddagh ring, for instance, as a symbol of his commitment to his partner, and he owned an Irish-style kilt that he wore on occasion, and he loved Irish folk music (albeit not as much as he loved Paul Simon music). He knew recipes from his grandmother and his mother, and he cooked them on St. Patrick’s Day, as opposed to the rest of the United States, which used the holiday as an excuse to get plastered.

He drank, of course, but he preferred the food on the holiday, and he never drank green beer. Besides, he and Josh had cut back on this drinking these past couple of years, and his liver thanked him for it.

However, he had a traditional meal to prepare in less than two weeks, which included corned beef, potatoes, and cabbage dishes, as well as leek soup.

Sean reached out to examine the bushels of kale, looking for rigid stalks and green, healthy leaves. “Colcannon. It’s a side dish,” he explained. It was simple enough to make, but, in his experience, Americans without Irish heritage opted for boiled cabbage and potatoes rather than anything more traditional.

Not that it mattered, since he didn’t eat at other people’s houses for St. Patrick’s Day. He liked cooking for himself and for Josh.

[Tomer Berelowitz]

"True," Tomer conceded. "But hamantaschen are almost like pastries." He liked them a lot, though when bakers didn't add enough honey or sweeteners to poppy seed fillings they could be a little bitter.

Looking over the wares, it was calming to see such a sea of green leafy things and fresh foods. He wondered how Clover would see the market. Like Willy Wonka's candy paradise?

Ah, colcannon. He'd had that, and it was pretty tasty too. But, "Wouldn't kale be too strong?" Maybe not, if Sean boiled it to death, but it would be interesting either way. Speaking of kale, Tomer picked a big dark green bunch of Clover. "What's Uncle Josh like for Irish food?"

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“They are,” Sean agreed with a nod, which had been his underlying point. Josh and he made hamantaschen together. They mad rugelach together. Josh had been taking baking lessons from Riley for years, which meant that he had been baking for years at this point. While the telepath knew that Josh’s siblings liked to tease him and poke fun, he no longer considered this area fair game for teasing, because his partner had proven his capability time and again.

After a couple of moments of studying the wares, Sean selected two bundles of kale and a head of cabbage, which he set aside. To Tomer, he encouraged, “Pick out whatever you like.” This trip was on the psychiatrist, and thus he would pay for what the boy wanted when paying for his own selections.

“No. The recipe originally calls for kale.” The fact that potatoes weren’t indigenous to Ireland aside, kale came from that part of Europe originally. Many recipes based on cabbage meant the wild cabbage that more closely resembled kale than what most people considered cabbage.

Besides, so much of Irish cuisine was so bland, and he said that as an American of Irish descent. “It tastes good that way.”

He liked it, and Josh ate it.

As for what his partner liked of Irish cuisine, Sean replied, “He likes it when I make corned beef and stew, and he likes cottage pie.” Of course he did, since cottage pie consisted of mashed potatoes and meat in a dough crust, and Josh didn’t always have the most discerning palate.

Josh’s healthier diet precluded eating cottage pie too often, but the psychiatrist still made it occasionally.

[Tomer Berelowitz]

Sean got kale too, and cabbage. Tomer admired cabbage, the round kinds. They were so compact and dense! Very efficient. He was going to pick out what he wanted, but he just nodded, not understanding that Sean was going to pick up the tab. There wasn't much he needed, Clover was a tiny bunny.

"Oh? Wow. Do all the original recipes that need cabbage need kale instead?"

Tomer took Sean's word that it was still delicious. "I think most food is good if it's made right."

Uncle Josh's palate for Irish food did not surprise his nephew. "Cottage pie is good," he agreed. "I like soda bread."

A great deal of Jewish cuisine was on the other far end of the flavor spectrum from Irish. Tomer liked the strong tastes, but often after holidays his stomach told him on no uncertain terms that anything spicier than matza was going to see a revolt.

"Are you getting potatoes here too?"

[Dr. Sean Neville]

When Tomer failed to respond to his subtle prompting, Sean opted for a more direct approach. He gestured with his wallet at the small pile of vegetables that he had set aside. “It’s on me, so pick out what you want.”

He was used to that. While Tomer was more attuned to subtlety than his uncle was, the psychiatrist did live with Josh, which meant that he had to feel comfortable switching between subtle politeness and more blatant directives.

At the boy’s question, he answered, “Not all of the recipes, but several of them. All of the boiled cabbage recipes use cabbage heads rather than kale.” Or, rather, kale or certain other members of its family that closely resembled wild cabbage.

“I have the potatoes I need for the colcannon,” he replied. He kept potatoes the same way he kept eggs, milk, coffee, butter, and other staples (including Excedrin and condoms): always in large supply, and always monitored so he could replace them when they ran low. “But if someone is selling fingerling potatoes, I’ll pick up a bag.”

Sean liked fingerling potatoes as a side dish, although not to turn into mashed potatoes; he preferred not to waste them on that.

[Tomer Berelowitz]

"Oh." Tomer smiled and blushed. "Thank you!" Considering that Sean had driven and nothing had been said beforehand, it was a lovely surprise. Tomer had thought to thank the man by buying him something, but... another time, maybe. He could share out the bagels his parents sent from the deli every few weeks.

"Huh. Maybe it's better. Have you ever had boiled kale?" Tomer had probably had kale before, but hadn't ever eaten it consciously. He didn't believe in superfoods, but he figured anything that got people to eat a little better paid off.

Like most people, Tomer liked potatoes in almost every preparation. But he was on the fence regarding fingerling potatoes vs. regular sized ones. They were small and cute and gave a bigger crispy crust to baked insides ratio, but they seemed like a waste of resources.

But he said, "Okay. I think I might get Clover a cucumber. He's never had one, and here they won't be covered in wax."

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“You’re welcome.” Sean had not mentioned it specifically on the drive because he considered Tomer family and had done so prior to his reconciliation with Josh. Tomer’s maternal grandparents had treated him like a fourth child in the decades between college and the present, such that the telepath attended all of the Bernstein family holidays and events, and Josh’s siblings had never treated him with anything but kindness or the same teasing that they turned on other members of the family. As a result, it was only natural that he would pay for an outing, when he was the adult and Tomer was Josh’s nephew.

Sean then nodded a single time in response to the boy’s question. “I have. It tastes fine, depending on the dish.” He liked it fine, but he rolled his eyes at the current foodie and crunchy worship of the vegetable, which, in turn, needlessly drove up the price. At least the attention would turn to another vegetable or fruit eventually, just as had happened with blueberries before it.

“That should make a nice treat,” the telepath said, and he began to search through the cucumbers for a firm one to buy. “Mopsy likes them,” he added. Although Sean rarely interacted with the rabbit, he paid attention to what Josh fed her, and he always listened when his partner discussed his pet; she was important to Josh, which, in turn, made her important to Sean by proxy.

“Do you plan to do anything for Purim?” He asked, as he found a cucumber and showed it to Tomer for his approval.

[Tomer Berelowitz]

Tomer nodded. Most foods tasted just fine if they were prepared well. That said, there were still foods that, even if prepared by the most expert hand, Tomer didn't think he could bring himself to try. Like fugu, or escargot. He didn't like to say never to anything, but those two were pretty close. Fugu because he wanted to live and escargot because it... it seemed rude to eat a creature after cooking it in its own house.

"Oh! Awesome." Tomer grinned. He always liked it when something Mopsy liked was something Clover had tried and liked too. "Does Uncle Josh peel them first?" He didn't think he had to, since these wouldn't be coated with wax, but maybe cucumber skin wasn't good for rabbits in large amounts or something.

Being away from home meant Tomer, for the first time in his life, had control over his schedule and he relished it. So now he didn't openly shudder at the mention of one of his least favorite holidays. But he couldn't hide the relief in his voice when he said, "Nope."

Tomer held out his hand to gently feel the cucumber. It was nice and cool, firm, and a lovely dark green. "Perfect!"

"Are you guys doing anything for Purim?" Because if there was anything Uncle Josh and Sean liked more than parties and dressing up, it was any excuse to combine the two.