A deli. The juror we saw earlier buys candy for his son. A Soprano associate comes in and does the friendly yet threatening "we know you'll do the right thing" thing, then leaves. The juror looks conflicted.
Carmela cries in the bathroom, but when the phone rings, she slogs out to answer it. It's Meadow again; she asks what Carm's up to. "Nothing -- just reading," Carm lies, and asks if Meadow's okay. Meadow asks if she did something to piss Carmela off. "Well, Little Miss 'Tuna Sand,' there's your sense of entitlement, your continued pervasive lack of respect for me, and the way you treat me like an indentured servant, JUST FOR STARTERS." Oh, wait. That was me. Shut up, Meadow. Carmela doesn't know what she's talking about. Meadow mentions that Carmela seemed pissed at her at dinner the other night, but Carmela's all, "Why would I be mad?" so Meadow drops the subject to invite Carmela to do their "tradition," tea at the Plaza under Eloise's portrait. Carmela, touched, gets a little weepy again: "Really? That's so wonderful. [sniffle]" Meadow asks if she's crying, but Carmela plays it off like she's just happy about Meadow's thoughtfulness. Meadow suggests the next day, and after a little mild bickering over the best river crossing to take to get to midtown, they say their "I love yous" and hang up. Meadow clicks off the cordless and looks at it thoughtfully for a second.
Bing back room. Tony comes in to find most of the crew assembled, and Silvio and Wide Guy kvetch helpfully about the union agent before Tony snarls that Carmine can run the Esplanade shutdown past the other four bosses and see how they feel about it. Wide Guy offers to torch a few of Carmine's cement trucks -- aw. So considerate, that Wide Guy -- but Tony says no, no retaliation: "We just sit tight." "It's gonna cost us, T," Silvio sighs. "That's why Carmine did it." Tony grunts that it'll cost Carmine too.
Close-up on a harp player at the Plaza. At a table for two, Carmela produces two pairs of white gloves from her bag. Meadow -- very nicely, for her -- declines to wear them, "Soprano family tradition notwithstanding." Carmela didn't think so, she says, but she's wearing hers, and as she draws them on, Meadow asks in a pass-the-time sort of way where Carmela parked. Carmela immediately gets defensive, asking if Meadow would like to lecture her on parking, too. Meadow's like, "Whatever, it's fine," but Carmela sarcastically says she figured that since Meadow is also an authority on "driving directions, not to mention literature…" "So it's the Billy Budd thing," Meadow says, getting that patronizing tone again and shrugging that she just wanted to point out to Carm "what serious literary critics have to say about the book." Well, more that you know what said critics say and Carm does not, but I've covered that. Shut up, Meadow. Oh, wait. I believe I may have covered that too at some point. The three-tiered tray of tea cakes arrives, and the subject switches to Meadow's travel plans; Finn will pick her up in New Jersey, because her ski stuff is there, so she'll stay over the night before and do some laundry. Carmela stares at her, sucking a mental lemon, so Meadow asks if that's a problem. No, Carm says, as long as Finn stays in the guest room. "He's not staying, Mother," Meadow says with exaggerated patience. Carmela adopts an innocent tone to observe, "Well, the way you two hang on each other…" Meadow shoehorns in another pop-cult reference with, "Well, excuse me, Mrs. Danvers -- what do you have against love?" Carmela's face falls: "Nothing." Meadow wants to know why Carm's not happy for her, and when Carmela clears her throat in lieu of an answer, Meadow snots, "What, are you jealous, just 'cause you and Dad are middle-aged?" Wow. I've said it before, and I'll say it again -- if I ever talked to my mother like that, she'd hand me my face with a side of slaw.