Gemma continues, somewhat tearily, "I loved him. Like you and Jax. I was nineteen. He was my goddamn world." Then she snaps back to the present, waves the note around, and bluntly tells a teary Tara that "wherever this leads, this is bad for our family." So, she implies, if Tara knows what's good for her, she will not even let Jax know about the letters. Gemma leaves, Maureen's note in her hands. Tara just covers her face and sighs.
And now, in the Charming PD, Roosevelt and Juice are having a tete-a-tete. Rather, Roosevelt is laying the groundwork for Plan B. And here it is: Michael Howard Cole -- who is of the African-American persuasion - just happens to be the father of one Juan Carlos Ortiz. "I knew who he was. I never met him," Juice says, sounding rattled. Roosevelt says, tongue-in-cheek, "Now I don't know if you can tell by his picture, but, um, he's black. Like, African black." Juice looks like he's in dire need of a green tea and mint colonic to unwind: "Yeah. I picked that up." In that same guileless delivery, Roosevelt says, "You tell me, what would the club do if they found out that you're black? You don't know? Let me break it down for you: First, they pull your patch, then they make you scrape the ink. Then if you're lucky enough, you walk out alive. As far as SAMCRO is concerned, you never even existed. So much for affirmative action." We cut to Juice's face. Clearly, Roosevelt has just voiced his worst nightmare, but Juice snaps back, "You don't know dick about my club." Roosevelt snaps back, "Yeah, you right, about dick. But Leroy? Everything." He tosses back the weed: "Enjoy your day." Then Roosevelt sits back at his desk. Juice is still sitting there, and he finally asks, "So what happens now?" Roosevelt looks up from some paperwork and says matter-of-factly, "We go back home to our families. I'll stay in touch, brother." And then I die from admiration over how tightly this show is written, because twisting the word "brother" from its usual "Hail, fellow biker club member in leather!" connotation to the more street usage is just genius.
Meanwhile, at Teller Morrow garage, Piney's in Gemma's office, waiting for her to come back so he can try and do an end-run around Clay to his old lady. Gemma takes the news that Clay plans to run drugs for a Mexican cartel with surprising composure. Or perhaps she's just numb with disbelief, which is why she does not tell Piney to watch it when he dismissively says, "All those drones at the table, they're going to follow Clay down to the last little crumb." You know, since one of those drones is her son. Anyway, Piney charges Gemma with taking some sense into Clay.