The Fellowship of Strangers
By Ayesha Haqqiqa
Disclaimer: All main
characters are the property of Dick Wolf, and this author receives no revenue
from the use of them.
Jack McCoy sat on the edge of his bed, head in hands. Thanksgiving might not be the most important holiday, but it was still a time to be with family or friends. And instead, Jack was spending the day alone.
Oh, he’d had offers. His brother had invited him over, but Jack had declined. He planned to invite Nora out to an expensive restaurant for a special meal, but he wanted to wait until the time was right.
But he waited too long. The very day he was going to ask her, Nora had made an announcement at the Executive’s Meeting.
“I realize that Thanksgiving is a time for family,” she said. “But many of the staff don’t have family nearby, like me. So I’ve decided to throw a buffet dinner.” She smiled. “Tell your staff I’m inviting everyone, not just EADAs.”
After the meeting, she had come up to Jack. “I hope to see you at the dinner,” she said. “It will be a lot of fun, I think.”
A whole lot of fun, Jack thought morosely. “I can’t,” he said stiffly. “I have—other plans.”
And now it was Thanksgiving Day, and he had nowhere to go. Sighing, he padded to the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. No need to shave today, he thought as he looked at the stubble on his chin. No need to comb his hair, either. He ran his hand through his tangled grey locks and sighed.
He went back to the bedroom, where he put on his oldest jeans and a ratty sweatshirt. Then he went to the kitchen where he fixed himself a bowl of cereal and milk. That done, he went to the living room, where he lay on the couch as he grabbed the remote.
“….brings you the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade!” cried the cheery announcer. Jack thought back to the time when he’d had a family and had put his daughter on his shoulders so she could watch the gigantic balloons float by. Hurriedly, he switched channels.
“And fixing the dinner can be a real family affair,” the chef on a cooking channel said. “Have the kids fix the salad while you and your spouse—“ Jack pushed the remote button hard. There had to be something else on, something to fit his mood.
“Come over, old sport,” Jay Gatsby said to his neighbor Nick in a movie from the Seventies. Jack settled down to watch. He knew the story and knew its tragic outcome, which fit his mood perfectly. He ate his cereal and watched the film until the end. As he watched the credits, he couldn’t help but notice the actor who played Nick was billed sixth.
“Should’ve been third,” he muttered as he stood up to take his empty bowl back to the kitchen. “He carried the whole film.” Jack came back from the kitchen to see a cheery Thanksgiving special starting. He turned off the set.
He was restless. Maybe a walk would help. He’d go out on the uncaring streets, knowing that his melancholy mood would go unnoticed. He donned his parka and stocking cap and started out.
He wasn’t sure exactly how he got there. All he knew was that he found himself in front of an old brownstone, where street people in tattered clothing were lingering in little groups.
“Come now, gentlemen, let’s make a line!” A jovial priest emerged from the brownstone and started shaking hands. “The turkey and trimmings are waiting for you at St. Anthony’s Hospitality House!”
Jack was flustered, and became more so when the priest took his hand and greeted him warmly. “Really, Father, I haven’t come to eat—“
The priest beamed. “Oh, you’ve come to help! Mary Flanigan said she’d try and scare up some volunteers from the place where she works! What’s your name, son?”
“Jack McCoy, but—“ Jack found himself being propelled up the steps and into the brownstone.
“A good Irish name,” the priest said with approval. “I’m Father O’Hara, though everyone calls me Father Harry. The kitchen’s this way, Jack.” The priest guided Jack down a narrow hallway to the back of the house. He opened a door, and Jack saw a modern, restaurant-style kitchen. A half-dozen men and women in white aprons looked up from their work.
“Everyone, here’s Jack, come to help us!” Father Harry said cheerily. “Mary, you know him, find him something to do.” With that, the priest was gone.
A middle-aged woman came up, drying her hands on her apron. “Welcome, Jack,” she said. “Apparently our dear Father Harry has gotten things mixed up again. Did you come for a meal?”
Jack felt his chin self-consciously. “No,” he said, taking off his cap and stuffing it in his pocket. “Despite my appearance, I’m gainfully employed and have a place to live. I…just came to help, that’s all.”
“Well, we can certainly use it,” Mary said as she led the way to the back, where she took Jack’s coat and hung it on a peg alongside the others. “Take an apron and we’ll set you to scrubbing the big pots. They’re starting to stack up.”
“They certainly are.” Jack stared at the pile of stainless steel cookware balanced precariously on the drain board.
“Marvin had to stop because someone put a knife in the sink and he got cut,” Mary explained. “So we made a rule—don’t put knives in the sink, give them to the dishwasher. But you’d better be careful, anyway.”
“What do I do?” Jack asked as he looked at the triple sink.
“Wash in the first sink, rinse in the second, stack and dry in the third. Put knives and utensils on the far drain board,” Mary explained quickly. Suddenly, she turned. “Oh, Beth, I told you to wait for me! I’m coming!”
Jack, who usually loathed washing dishes, found comfort in the warm sudsy water. Somehow, scrubbing food off the pots gave him a feeling of accomplishment. He was surprised when a hand touched his shoulder.
“Time for the blessing, Jack,” Mary said. “Then we’ll come back and finish up.”
Jack followed Mary and the other volunteers into the dining room. Tables were set with white cloths, silverware, and china. Jack and the others bowed their heads as Father Harry prayed.
“Heavenly Father, thank You for this day. Thank You for the fellowship of strangers, who come together on this day to celebrate Your unlimited love. Thank You for giving us the strength to live this day. Thank You for giving us the hope to live for tomorrow. In the name of Your most precious gift, Jesus Christ, Amen.”
Jack was thoughtful as he walked back to the kitchen.
“It’s like this every year,” Mary said as she put away the dried pots. “It’s amazing to me how—genteel and loving everyone is. You know, some of them don’t have much, just living from day to day on strength and hope.”
“Makes you stop and think about what’s really important in your own life,” Jack said as he finished washing the last pot.
“Go on and eat. I’ll drain the sink,” Mary offered.
Jack shook his head. “You go ahead,” he said as he drained the sink. “I’ve got another place to go now.”
Mary looked at him in surprise. “Well, glory be! God bless you, Jack!”
“He already has,” Jack said as he finished up.
Thanksgiving had been fun, but exhausting, for Nora. Nearly fifty staff members had dropped in for the buffet, and she felt glad that she’d been able to supply a place for them to meet and talk. But, in spite of all the familiar faces, there was one missing that she longed to see. But Jack must have gone to his brother’s, Nora decided. She sighed. Well, it was right that family came first, though the thought made her no less sad,
She was surprised when she heard the bell ring. “Who’s coming now?” she asked Serena Southerlyn. “There’s hardly anything left!”
She went to the door. There was Jack, resplendent in his black topcoat. Nora’s smile turned to laughter when he shed his outer garment.
For underneath the topcoat, Jack wore his best black suit—and a white kitchen apron!
“I thought you might let me celebrate Thanksgiving with you if I worked for my supper,” he said.
Nora took his hand and drew him in the room. “Jack McCoy, you never cease to amaze me. You really haven’t eaten?”
“No. I wanted to eat here—with you.” Jack said, gazing into her eyes.
Serena smiled. She went over to Crocker and Anne, who were the only guests left. “Let’s thank Nora and go,” she suggested. The trio smiled as they made their farewells; Jack and Nora were deep in conversation and didn’t realize when they left.
“…and then I went inside and washed dishes,” Jack told Nora. “It was funny. I woke up feeling sorry for myself, but when I saw those people, so grateful for what little they had—“ He squeezed her hand.
“Jack, you know you were welcome here,” Nora said. “In fact, despite all the people…well, I missed you.” She leaned over and kissed him softly.
“I know,” Jack sighed. “It was just…that I’d planned a romantic dinner for two, only I waited too long to ask…and…well…I was jealous of all the others taking your time…”
Nora smiled. “Well, now we have all the time in the world. Believe it or not, I haven’t eaten yet, either. How about microwaving some turkey and sitting down together by the fire? And then we can spend a romantic evening cleaning up!”
“Anything, if it’s with you,” Jack said as he kissed her tenderly.