For the Right Reasons (27 page)

My favorite member of Lindsay’s family might have been her brother, Marcus. I sat down with him and talked to him about video games and comic books, which I know very little about. He was the sweetest kid I’ve ever met, and we really hit it off.

Her family was just like my family. They loved to watch
Seinfeld
, her mom talked about their Christian faith, and they seemed comfortable around one another and me. I laughed that the girl in the wedding dress was turning out to be the one who most closely shared my values.

When it came time to talk to her dad about the possibility of marrying Lindsay, however, my heart raced. This was where things had gone bad at Catherine’s house, and I was hoping my talk with Mr. Yenter would go more smoothly.

“Being a paratrooper is all about managing risk,” her dad said. “If you guys figure out that’s what you want to do, you have to have—as we say in the army—the authority to make the decision. So you have my blessing.” I was so relieved—and then he added, “As long as Lindsay says yes. If she doesn’t say yes, you no longer have it.”

I was so touched by the visit. It felt like her father accepted me and even thought I was worthy to be with his daughter. It made Lindsay even more attractive to me.

Before I left, her dad gave a speech about how it had been an honor to have me in their home. In the middle of it, Marcus interrupted and said, “I want you to be in our family.”

Though I couldn’t say anything, I thought,
Marcus
,
the feeling is mutual
.

The last hometown date was the most dramatic. Yes, that word might get overused when describing
The Bachelor
episodes, but it is the right word to describe what happened in Los Angeles when I met Desiree’s family.

I noticed that every time Des spoke of her family, she got very emotional.
It was easy to see how much she loved them and how badly she wanted the kind of lifelong love that her parents share.

When I finally got to meet them, I understood her affection for them. Her parents could best be described as salt of the earth. They were kind, encouraging, and accepting of my relationship with their daughter. Her brother, Nate, was great too.

“I was planning on giving you a hard time,” he said. “But there’s nothing wrong with you.” We seemed to share the same faith, and he even told me he was thinking of becoming a missionary.

My night is done
, I thought.
I’ve won everyone over
.

During dinner, we told her family about all our adventures. I was always aware of how the parents might perceive our relationship. The dates were short, so parents tended to notice every detail of the day and draw conclusions. While we ate, I wondered if Des might have been showing me more affection than I was showing her. She was touching my arm, laughing, and putting her arm around me. It sounds sort of self-conscious to be thinking of these things, but I didn’t want her parents to think I wasn’t interested in Des. I put my arm around her and told them some of the funny adventures we’d had. Everyone laughed. I loved her family.

Suddenly, however, her brother told the producers he needed to talk to me again.

Okay
, I thought.
Maybe he forgot to tell me something
. We went outside and began a conversation that I thought would be a continuation of the nice, affable chat we’d shared earlier. But when he began to talk, it was as though I were talking to a different guy.

“I believe she’s really into you, but you’re not into her,” he challenged me. “If you’re feeling that way, you can’t ask her to marry you.”

“I don’t see where you got that,” I said, though I wondered if he noticed I wasn’t as affectionate to Des as she was to me. Was he picking up on something even I didn’t see? “I’m crazy about your sister,” I said.

“You’re crazy about a lot of girls,” he sneered.

“Of course, I have three other great girls.”

“You don’t know who you’ll choose?”

“I hope when the time comes,” I said, “I’ll know.”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

“Did that put your mind at ease a bit?” I asked, in an effort to at least wrap up the strange conversation.

“Not at all,” he said. “You’re just a playboy. You’re just having fun with the circumstances.”

I had been wondering if he had some sort of sense I should pay attention to. Now I knew he was off base. My integrity was very important to me, and the way he was so dismissive of me—when he’d previously been so affirming—was bizarre.

“I’m sorry I gave you that opinion,” I said, trying to control my anger. “But that’s not me.”

“I’m not buying it,” he responded quickly.

He didn’t know me, and he sure couldn’t speak to my integrity. As badly as I wanted to confront him, I held back. I didn’t want to cause a huge scene and embarrass Des and her parents even more than they already were.

Though my interaction with her brother didn’t affect the way I looked at Des, it made me wonder.

Could I choose to be in the same family with a guy who seems to hate me?

Normally in the “rose rooms,” there are lots of cameras carefully arranged to capture every moment of the rose ceremony.

First, I’d pick the bachelorettes I was going to send home, then the producers would tell me the order to call out the names of the remaining girls. That way all the cameras would be positioned just right to catch the reactions of each girl.

But that night I couldn’t think straight.

“Listen,” I told the producers, who were patiently waiting for me to tell them who was going home so they could position the cameras and stay on schedule. “I just don’t know.”

That was the first—and only—time I couldn’t tell them.

“It’s okay,” the cameraman said. “Take your time. We’ll do the best we can with the cameras and everything.”

Two producers, Scott and Jonah, had been with me every step of the way, but hadn’t yet given me any type of advice. I was standing in
The Bachelor
mansion upstairs before the girls arrived, out on the balcony.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” I told them. “It’s between Des and Catherine.”

“Well,” Jonah said. “I think Des makes more sense for you.”

“You might match up better with Des,” Scott agreed.

“Maybe you’re right,” I said.

By the time I talked to Harrison, I was still uneasy about making a decision.

“Are all four women on the chopping block tonight?” Harrison asked me as I tried to sort out my feelings. I could tell everyone was worried about me. They had never seen me suffer from indecision.

“No,” I told him. I could picture myself with Lindsay. I could picture myself with AshLee. But when I closed my eyes and tried to imagine being the husband of Des or Catherine, I couldn’t conjure those scenes. “It’s Des or Catherine.”

I couldn’t get my conversation with Desiree’s brother out of my head. Was it odd that I had to think consciously about putting my arm around Des instead of it being a natural expression of my feelings? As odd as her brother’s behavior seemed at the time, could he have put his finger on at least one real issue? Plus, I knew Des loved and respected her brother. If she valued his opinion, what would his input do to our relationship?

Though I had fun with Catherine, I didn’t see us lining up as a couple. What was she, deep down? What did she believe in? What made her tick? I wanted kids—not necessarily right away, of course. But I wanted to have biological children and maybe even adopt. I’d love to support her career, but would she view kids as an impediment to her life?

I didn’t know who would go home that night.

“Well, take a moment, think about what you want to do,” Harrison said. “We’ll see you out there.”

I stood before the four ladies with three roses to hand out.

“I want to thank you all for having me in your hometowns this week. I was amazed at how warm your families were,” I said. I could tell the girls were nervous. I felt like my heart was being ripped in two. “As I stand here, I still don’t know who’s going home. I’m afraid I’m going to regret my decision tomorrow morning. But with each rose I pick up, I’ll give it to a person I can imagine spending the rest of my life with.”

I picked up a rose and held it. I didn’t know to whom I should give the first rose.

“Sean,” Des said, breaking the silence. It’s very unusual to interrupt a rose ceremony, so my pulse quickened. “May I speak to you for a moment?”

We went into a different room as the cameramen jostled to record what was about to happen.

“I wanted to apologize for last night,” she whispered. A boom mic floated above our heads, trying to get the hushed exchange. Des was upset about how things had turned out with her family.

“It weighs heavy on my heart,” she whispered. “I don’t want you to let my brother affect us.”

When we got back to the ceremony, tensions were high. I could see on Catherine’s face that she wondered if the last-minute conversation with Des would end up sending her home.

I gave the first rose to Lindsay and the second to AshLee.

The last rose stuck to my hands. I wanted to give it to Catherine, but it didn’t really make sense. Of the four remaining girls, Catherine and I were the most different. And I definitely had a connection with Des.

Instead of giving out the final rose, I left. I simply couldn’t decide, and it wasn’t helping that the two people I was thinking of sending home were staring at me with big, teary eyes.

“What’s going on?” Harrison asked.

“I don’t have clarity.”

Harrison was kind as he listened. “Get this right,” he finally said. “Take your time.”

Everyone made sense on paper—AshLee, Lindsay, and Des all seemed
to line up with my values. I really liked Catherine, but she was a Birkenstock-wearing, vegan food blogger from Seattle. I was a meat eater who’d worked in the oil and gas industry. She came from a Filipino culture. My family was a bunch of Texans. How could that possibly work out?

Reluctantly, I went back out to the ceremony, picked up the rose, and paused. On the show, it looks as though the ceremonies happen pretty quickly, but it takes a long time between the moments when the roses are handed out. Before I handed out the rose, I stood there awkwardly. As I waited, I could hear the earpieces of all the producers, the director talking, and the cameras being positioned. I stared at the ground, because I didn’t want to make eye contact with the woman I was about to send home. Plus, I confess I have a nervous habit that drives people crazy. When someone is angry at me, if I’m anxious, or in trouble, my involuntary response is laughter. It made all the rose ceremonies absolutely terrible, because I was always on the verge of looking like the most insensitive man on the planet. If I looked up and saw the girls, I might get a smirk on my face. Which, of course, didn’t make sense in the circumstances. So I’d look back down at my shoes and think,
Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh.
Of course, when you’re not supposed to laugh, the whole world seems like a punch line.

This rose ceremony, however, I didn’t have the luxury of waiting and talking myself out of nervous laughter. My mind was racing as I tried desperately to make a decision. That’s when it hit me.