Dinner. Some fantastically, um, "entrenched suburbanite" (trust me, that's a really nice way of saying something without me trotting out an expression no one wants to hear me use) casserole is spatulaed onto plates as we discover why ambiguous Uncle Steve has been invited: for his fantastic manual dexterity. (In fact, both myself and my friend Beth, with whom I watched this episode, didn't even remember that poor Uncle Steve was even AT the first dinner.) Santa kicks it off with questions, asking Matthew if his intentions were good coming into this whole mess. "I'm to the point where I don't really date casually," Matthew responds sincerely, furrowing his brow. Wait. Hang on. Just creating a macro for the words "Matthew responds sincerely, furrowing his brow." I've got a strange feeling I'm going to be needing it. Santa Dad asks what the "connection" is between the two of them, because reality television has become a meta-language unto itself at this point, like Esperanto or the plot of the "Toxic" video. And also, because he knew if he asked about Matthew's "journey," the poor boy would only see fit to respond, "You mean, from farm boy to Glamour Boy? Well, see, it all started on a simple scratch of land back in Friendswood, Texas." But instead, they sit rapt as Matthew responds sincerely, furrowing his brow, droning on about how he feels when Meredith looks at him. He feels very fortunate that he's stayed in the game even this long. "Because she can axe me any time she wants!" Even the usually pensive Uncle Steve gets a rousing chuckle out of that one. In the absence of knowing anything about him, I'm just going to ascribe random personality characteristics to Uncle Steve. Earlier, he was "usually pensive." Now I see him as "cautiously boyish." And later, "made of chunky peanut butter."
"Why Matt?" Brother Matt asks, forgetting the delineation of "Matt' and "hew," and stopping just before the cameras catch him giving voice to the heavily implied, "Why not ME?" Meredith responds sincerely, furrowing her brow (see? They're perfect!), telling the room that Matthew "is the kindest, most respectful" guy she's ever met, and that he treats her "like gold." When you care enough to do something really special for the woman you love? Pan for her in 19th Century California. You'll be glad you did.
Meredith and Brother Matt share a moment in the kitchen, where he enters and she whispers, "Do you like him?" Matt doesn't get the whole "indoor voice" aspect of private conversation, because he's either gomer-y enough not to realize when something isn't for publication or savvy enough to realize this is all going to air on television anyway, so he shouts back, "Rainbows are visions/ They're only illusions/ And rainbows have nothing to hide." And where'd that banjo come from? Fine. I'm saying he talks like Kermit the Frog. Matt admits that Matthew has got "a great personality," adding that "the only beef" he's had with Meredith's boyfriends in the past is that they haven't treated her right. Ew. Don't say "beef." Back at the post-dinner lovefest, Matthew thanks Meredith's family for having such a great Meredith in it, and confessionalizes, "You what I picture with Meredith? I picture going to the grocery store! And going to the movies. And riding my truck! And letting this very special thing that we have grow." And sittin' on a porch swing. And drinking a cold glass of something with bitters. And shucking. Definitely shucking. And losing to Ian.