"I want to meet her family," Matthew confessionalizes from the top of the boat, sporadic shots doubtlessly filmed between inconveniencing rain squalls. "I want to find out how this girl has become who she is." By hitting all six numbers in the genetic Powerball, complete with supplementary bonus numbers, is how.
Back on the boat, Meredith and Matthew coo and smile and hold hands and review for our edification who Matthew will be meeting today: Meredith's mother and father, and her brother, Matt. "That's why I call you Matthew!" Meredith chirps, and the collective audience -- save a few V.C. Andrews fanfic lovers -- shudder with the societal of stigma of it all.
"I'm ready to consider marriage, but I want to know if that's what she wants," Matthew tells us in his never-ending stream of declarative first-person statements. Inside the Crystal Dolphin (which sounds like it would be title of a Court TV exposé about the decline and fall of full frontal Vegas strip clubs), Matthew has his arm around Meredith, and she doesn't so much know what to do with her hands on account of not having a drink in one of them. Oh, wait. There it is on the table. He tells her that he wants to know what's going on inside of her head real, real bad, but he knows she can't always tell him. "You're a smart man," she replies with certitude. Hey. There's no reason to talk down to the dude just because he's from Texas. Matthew replies with an honest "I don't know," and flashes teeth so blindingly bright they shine like lanterns, and suddenly visible is the spray-paint on the back of his head that I can see through his eyes reading, "No. No, I'm not." Meredith, meanwhile, has some further, vaguer thoughts of her own, when she tells us, "There's a fine line between saying too much and saying too little." And here we go again with the gag order that the producers put on the final episode, to keep us guessing right until the very end, even if Andrew had already made up his mind about choosing Jen over that other pointy girl, gotten engaged, and broken up with her, all before the episode has even aired. It's a dramatic gambit that makes any educated viewer combat the sheer longness of these two hours with the airtight logic, "Well then, what's stopping me from just tuning in five minutes from the end, then? Nothing. NOTHING! Oh, look! There's an 'outside,' now! My grandmother always told me she used to play there when she was little, but I thought she was talking about a computer game or something."