In an identically-colored though slightly less mock-collared shirt, Eugene prefaces dinner by telling us that he's "excited" for their night ahead but also "unsure as to what to do." Well, avoiding meaningful conversation with either of the other two girls he might ask to marry him seems to be working fine, so what not just Control-C, Control-X, and Control-V and run with it? Can't have our expectations as viewers challenged too much, can we? Or...can we? Let's go see!
"The thing that does concern me a little bit," Eugene tells Mary in the Serious Guy voice that failed to convince Trista and now fails to convince us, "is your timeline might be a little different than mine." Why Eugene, whatever do you mean? "I remember you saying" -- yeah, that one time she might have mentioned it -- "that you wanted to have children immediately and wanted to have a family. And it made me think. I was curious what you think about that." Like it's her opinion on NAFTA. Okay, good, though. He's laid it out there. All we need now is for Mary to step up and level with him, telling him, "I don't think anybody really knows what their timeline is." No! NO!!! Please! This is only the seventh week we've ever known Mary, and even we know how to say "hot flash" in Spanish. She wants kids. She knows she wants kids. We know he knows she wants kids. If he's not the guy who can give them to you then he's not the guy. Too bad they spent the whole day kayaking when Mary's most practiced mode of transport is clearly the backpedal. That. Is. Annoying. "I don't want to wait five years," she admits. "I don't want to wait four years, five years." Those are two different things? What is that, the length of Nana's funeral on Jupiter? Ten, fifteen minutes = four, five years?
It seems too that Eugene's been briefed that Mary might have some of her own reservations about this whole affair. She wrings her hands and launches right in: "Obviously, you're going out with two other girls." Math is hard! She tells him in no uncertain terms that the thought of Eugene being "intimate" (as the seventh-grade health-class terminology would have us understand) with either of the other girls weighs heavy on her rapidly deteriorating mind. She dances around it, though, and Eugene is forced to ask if Mary's asking if he's "been intimate" with either of the other women. She tells him that she doesn't know if it's right for her to ask that, but, while she's asking, yeah, that's kind of what she's asking. Eugene hems with the hawing for a moment, and settles on cyclical diplomacy: "Whatever moments I share with you are no one else's business, just as the moments that I share with them, at this point, are not anyone else's business either." And there it is, right there in Mary's eyes. A flicker that tells us she knows she's blown it. It's all adding up: between the jealousy, the inappropriate questions about the other girls, the suspicion, and the asking Eugene to start being a baby maker the second that ring is on the finger? She's toast. Just as long as she's not "eggs," too, because she's got only so many of those left over to spare.