Gemma sighed and tossed her own dish in the sink along with Johns, covering them both in dish soap and running hot water. She stood over the sink as it filled trying to control her frustration. Inside, she wanted to scream and to sob. Ever since Jackson was born they'd been a perfect family. A little rougher around the edges than the American dream with their leather jackets, long hair and tattooed bodies, John and Gemma had been the picture of happiness. Jax used to think his parents were cool, joining them at the clubhouse and various rallies.
The past year had been difficult though. Gemma floundered to guide John in the right direction, to steer the club into prosperity instead of struggling to stay afloat. She knew Chibbs work would be risky, but they just had to be smart about it. Working with the Irish would not only secure the family financially, but it would back the club as the most powerful gang in the area. 'How can John be so blind?' Gemma wondered as she turned off the tap and began to absently wash and dry the dishes. 'It's just one word. Just say yes.' Her mind urged him.
Gemma knew that it would never be that easy to convince him. One of the things she loved about John was that he was kind hearted, but now it was that same quality that stood in her way. They both knew the only interest the Irish would have in a Southern Californian biker gang would be to expand their gun trade. John shied away from the violence and couldn't man up enough to do what was best.
Moving quietly through the empty house, Gemma spent the next couple of hours cleaning unnecessarily to occupy herself. She'd been on her hands and knees bleaching the bathroom floor when the phone rang. She raised herself and hurried to the kitchen to silence its echoing shrill.
"Hello?" Her voice was polite but annoyed to be called at nearly 9:30 at night.
"Mrs. Teller?" A familiar voice spoke officially back to her "This is Deputy Wayne Unser from the Charming police department."
"Which one of my boys have you got tonight Unser?"
"Jax is here, Opie too. One of my patrolmen picked them up behind the high school for public intoxication. Might be a good idea to come get them both." Wayne had always been kind and lenient with the Tellers.
"I'm on my way." She hung up the phone, grabbed her purse and keys and walked out the door. She lit a cigarette as she rolled out of the driveway. Instead of heading directly to her son, she decided to give him a little extra time in a jail cell to think. Let him wonder if she would come at all. Killing time she went to the clubhouse in search of her husband. Gemma strolled right in – a privilege denied to most of the other women. Chibbs and Bobby politely nodded her way and went back to playing pool. Clay sat at the bar while Juice poured him a drink, and John was nowhere to be seen. Gemma's heels clicked along the cracking tiles of the ceramic floor, silencing only once she'd climbed into a barstool next to Clay and demanded a whiskey and coke from Juice.
"That's a stiff drink for a Thursday night." Clay commented.
"Your one to talk." Gemma casually responded. "Looks like you've been here awhile." She wasn't wrong. Clay had finally changed his clothes but had yet to shower or shave.
"Why leave paradise?" He shrugged and she laughed. Gemma and Clay had developed quite a friendship over the years through John. Initially she hadn't found him attractive at all. After twenty years he'd grown into his features and broad shoulders. No longer a lanky nineteen year old, Clay was strong and masculine. His deep voice easily commanded a room.
Gemma was quite similar to Clay. She too had strong features, and her presence demanded respect from everyone around her. Her head was always held high, her shoulders and back straight. She kept her dark hair brushed back away from her face to reveal her dark deep set eyes. Clay looked into those eyes as he enjoyed her smile. They sat quietly for a few minutes, each nursing their drinks.
"He's not here, you know." Clay assumed she hadn't come to the club just for his company.
"Yeah, I'd hoped he would be though. Jax and Ope got picked up tonight, Unser's waiting on me to get them off the hook." She took another long sip from her glass.
"I could go with you." Clay offered to fill in for John on more than one occasion.
"No, you might get locked up yourself looking like that." He chuckled at her insult while she took one last gulp to empty her drink. "I'll see you tomorrow." Gemma stood and sauntered away.
"Always a pleasure." Clay raised his glass and watched the way her body moved until she'd disappeared out the door.
The drive to the police station was short; Gemma had barely finished another cigarette when she parked out front, carelessly blocking in two cruisers. Unser approached her as soon as she walked into the bull pen, and she followed him into the cells.
Behind the iron bars her son leaned against the peeling yellow paint of the cinder block walls. His arms were crossed and his eyes were downcast. Attitude emanated from the boy. Next to him Opie sat on the steel bench bolted to the wall. Opie's elbows rested on his knees and propped his head in his hands. His jaw was slack and a bit of what Gemma assumed was vomit clung to the chest of his shirt.
"About time you showed up." Jax could have been more appreciative to see his mother.
"That's a good look for you, sitting in a cell. You want me to leave you hear over night? You two could get real comfortable." Gemma's threat was empty and everyone but Opie knew it.
"Please no." The drunk teen groaned without lifting his head, "Gem I gotta," he heaved "I gotta go home." Opie was the son of an original member of SAMCRO, Piney Winston. Gemma had raised him nearly as much as she'd raised Jax, and right now, she liked him a little better.
"Alright, Unser, let them out. I got it from here." The deputy acknowledge Gemma's request, keying open the cage and standing aside for the boys to file out. "Anything you need me to sign for their release?"
"You know better than that. This one is off the books." The aging deputy's voice was gruff as he ran a hand through his thinning white hair. Gemma knew that Unser was always going to go easy on her. Only fifteen years her senior, Wayne had always seemed to have fatherly tendencies for Gemma. He looked the other way on her family's transgressions, making many headaches disappear. Wayne Unser and the club were always on good terms and he'd been a helpful contact to have within the police department.
Jax swaggered out of the cell with an offensive amount of confidence. Opie staggered behind him, fighting the effects of the alcohol. Gemma led them through the office and out to the car, giving Unser a thankful wave before driving off.
The ride home was short but silent. Opie lurched out before the car had completely stopped in the driveway, disappearing around the side of the garage with distinguishable retching. Jackson and Gemma lingered outside the car. Both leaned against its shiny black body, quiet and tense.
"Have anything you want to say to me?" It was Gemma who first spoke.
"Thanks for coming to get us, I guess." Jackson's voice was soft and quiet. He kept his head down and his hands in his pockets.
Gemma knew it would be a long shot to get an actual apology from her son. She put her arm around his shoulders, only within her reach because he was slouching. "Oh sweetheart, you know I will always come. You could be less of an idiot about it though." They smiled together, knowing that this was neither the first or last time she would bail him out.
"I'm never drinking again." Opie's words were muffled as he wiped his mouth with the neck of his shirt. The boys and Gemma walked into the house where she prepared the spare bedroom for Opie to spend the night. She was tougher than most others and fiercely protective, but against all views Gemma Teller was a nurturing mother.
Down the block the burning embers of a lit cigarette floated in the dark to John's lips. He often sat on his bike in this spot when he returned from rides after the sun had gone down. From here he was comfortably isolated, able to observe his home and family from a distance until he was prepared to return and participate in their chaos.