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Party time at the Thompsons and they are the very picture of social propriety and standing. Did he forget she turned over his 160,000 acres of land to the church? They catch up with the doctor from earlier and he sets up Nucky with a metaphor as subtle as a jackhammer but Nucky still has to remind us that yes, he is good at seeing the value in worthless land, and thanks for reminding him, Doc.
As Margaret spies Teddy on the staircase, Nucky tells her to bring him down then chit chats with Eddie Cantor, who’s blessedly not brought Lucy with him but instead a flapper named Billie. She’s charmed by Teddy’s good manners, so in addition to being a sociopath and a firestarter he also likes showgirls. Is it any wonder he’s Margaret’s favorite? One last bit of charm and Margaret shuffles Teddy off to bed so Billie can drink two glasses of champagne, to make sure the stark comparison to Margaret is obvious enough, then she and Cantor are off to sing for their supper. Nucky seems rather impressed.
Richard has Tommy in his room and he’s showing the boy Angela’s painting. When Tommy has difficulty sounding out her name, Richard says her name was Angela Darmody. Tommy’s chipper because she had the same name as him and wants to draw a picture. Richard sets Tommy up with some paper and a pencil then asks what he’s drawing. A horse, of course.
Richard sits a little closer to Tommy to tell him about how Angela drew him once, a long time ago. Then Gillian’s sing-songy, cray cray voice asks him what was a long time ago. Richard briefly considers shitting himself and/or running but settles on lying and saying ‘the war.” Gillian doesn’t think that’s a suitable topic for a small child then asks what Tommy’s doing. “Making a picture…like [his] mother.” He points to Angela’s painting, just in case Gillian’s head didn’t explode yet.
Gillian gets all crazy-eyed and tells Tommy that she’s his mother now, remember? Tommy, still the little boy who never gave a shit about anything, just blithes “yeah” and keeps drawing while Richard chews through his lip. Gillian tells Tommy it’s time for bed. Tommy stops drawing and leaves so Gillian can glare at Richard and scare the crap out of him some more.
Back in Chicago and an El booms past a florist. As Al and a goon walk in, O’Banion says they’re closed. They puff their chests at each other and Al tries to be tough by knocking over a vase. Ooh, scary. Whatever, it works and O’Banion’s rethinking getting mouthy about Al’s deaf son when Nelson walks into the shop to sell some irons. O’Banion’s quick on his feet and asks the “dummy” where he’s been then tells Nelson to shut up and look smart. Two things he was never very good at, but Nelson’s learned. O’Banion bluffs and tells Al that unless he wants a taste of what’s in Nelson’s suitcase, he better watch his step. Al thinks the better of that and just leaves, pausing briefly when he’s standing right next to Van Alden, in case we weren’t aware that Nelson’s a human totem pole and Al’s a wee, wee man.