"'My dearest son, this afternoon I got the happy message that I am a grandfather. I cannot express the joy.'" Eli tells him to go on, but that's all there is. But wait, there's more! Eli also wants Knox to look at the picture of Eddie's sons and guess which one he thinks provided the grandchild. Jesus, Eli, get a hold of yourself! Knox looks at the picture. "The taller one, I guess?" Eli asks if he has kids. Knox doesn't -- that is to say, he says he doesn't -- and Eli tells him about his own near-baseball team of a brood. "You worry, you know? You're always worried," he says, his back to Knox. "And the thought that I could just leave 'em…" Aaaaand now Eli is crying. Knox pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket and passes it over. Eli daubs his eyes, and then notices the JTM monogram. Not a W or K in there. He stares at it for a moment, and then looks like he's biting his hand to suppress a reaction.
Back in Tampa, Lucky's pacing around his and Meyer's hotel room, anxious that Petrucelli went right to the phone to call Joe, who it turns out is Petrucelli's cousin. Meyer thinks he's overreacting, because Petrucelli won't walk away from the opportunity, so they'll just cut Masseria in. But Lucky says he's already gone behind Joe's back. "I saw him take a Gladstone full of cash from Nucky Thompson a couple months ago," says Meyer. Yeah, Lucky saw it too, and he's still freaking out, because even after that Joe was talking about the day he'll blow Thompson's head off. "He never forgets. He'll wait forever. That's how he is," says Lucky. So Meyer suggests letting Joe chase him down here. "I'm not living in fucking Florida," says Lucky. Hear that, Florida? How bad is it when a murderous gangster doesn't want to live in you? "If this pans out, we can live wherever we want," says Meyer, and Lucky's all, I already do! So he decides he'll just "take care" of it; he's going to take out Petrucelli and end it there. Great thinking: I'm worried about incurring Joe's rage, so I'll murder his cousin. I mean, I get the hope would be Masseria doesn't find out, but… Anyway, now Meyer starts to freak out, and Lucky is the one who's unconcerned, saying they'll just find another investor for the deal. It's either that or they back out of the deal, and get something else going closer to home. But Meyer won't hear of that: "You do what you want, but I'm in. I'm staying." Lucky points out they're partners. Not on this, not anymore, says Lansky. Lucky doesn't think Lansky's got the money for it, but Meyer's all, "You don't know what I have." Luciano calls him a "sly little sheeny," which is an epithet that today's anti-Semites don't go to as often, I don't think. Meyer's all, "That's right, Charlie, let's hear what you really think." Lucky tells him to dig his own fuckin' grave, and stomps out, Meyer yelling after him not to touch Petrucelli. But given Luciano's "fuck you" response, I'd say the matter is far from settled.