The Wrong Girl, you see, wanted not only to take Anthony away from his home and make him a pawn of someone else's family politics, she wanted him to take on a role for which he was unsuited and, worst of all, talk about what was bothering him. That is the worst of all because complaining to the person you're complaining about is something that scares Lynn witless; I don't know whether it's because she expects to be yelled at or to suffer the humiliation of being made to look foolish by having her anticipation of being yelled at disproven but I do know that she seems to fear confrontation when she's not in the driver's seat. As for the Wrong Men, their nomadic natures not only exposed Liz to the risk of worrying about what they were doing when she couldn't see them, they also exposed her to the terrible danger of adapting to a strange and therefore evil and wrong culture and, worse still, never being able to impress her parents and gain their approval.
To Lynn, it's enough that the Wrong People exist to tempt and menace the Sainted Family with the horror and evil that the unfamiliar represent; giving them names is simply an unnecessary detail. To us, however, it displays a defect in not only the story-telling but in Lynn herself. A competent author would keep track of this sort of thing and rely less on miracles. What could have and should have been done was to have Elizabeth confront the behaviors that drive her suitors into the arms of other women when she's not around; having to admit to being a dreary, passive, uncurious lump of nothing so as to make herself a better fit for her parents' ambitions wouldn't be pleasant but it would make her choice of Anthony more palatable; granted, we'd also have to have the impossible-to-Lynn revelation on Anthony's part that he went out of his way to be a crappy husband to Thérèse because he was stupid, whiny and hell-bent on turning her into the Liz that only existed in his head but a good author could make that work. It wouldn't be a hearts-and-flowers ending but it would be more realistic and more satisfying than the teal-and-lavender mess we were made to endure.