Everyone hoots and hollers melodramatically.
Andie opens a folder on her laptop that says SS BACH and clicks on the file that reads Bedroom 300. She positions the computer so everyone can see, then she hits play. Burke’s familiar face appears on the screen; he’s sitting on the couch in Andie and Spencer’s apartment, and a warmth spreads behind my collarbone at the thought of his secretly making the trip to Williamsburg to do this. He wears a blue button-down shirt that matches his eyes, and the hint of a laugh plays at the corners of his mouth. My Goose. He’s so adorable I have to fight the urge to get up and kiss Andie’s laptop screen.
“What is Skye’s favorite sex position?” I hear Andie ask Burke.
He breaks into a full laugh, dimples appearing on either cheek. “Getting personal, are we, Andie?” He scratches his chin. “Skye likes being on top.”
Everyone screams and claps. As relief dissolves through me, I swear I see Andie’s expression harden.
“Next!” she calls. “Sophia.”
Soph eyes the board, weighing her options. Half-Filipino, Sophia tans even more quickly than Andie, and a day in the sun has left her skin a rich shade of cider brown.
“Burke’s Quirks for two hundred.” Soph winks in my direction.
“Burke’s Quirks for two hundred,” Andie repeats, looking at me. “‘What would Skye say is Burke’s most annoying habit?’”
I rack my brain, trying to imagine how Burke answered the question. He knows I hate it when he leaves his wet towels lying on the furniture. I can’t think of anything else.
“When he leaves his wet towels lying on the furniture?” I say it as if it’s a question.
“That’s the most annoying thing he does!” Kate exclaims. “God, you’re lucky.”
“All right, and here’s Burke’s answer.” Andie opens the corresponding file and hits play.
On the screen, I watch Burke’s face morph into a dazed expression. “Uhh…” His voice trails. “It bugs her when I forget to use the squeegee thing after I shower.”
“No dice,” Andie announces, victorious. “Kendall, you’re next.”
Kendall chooses By the Numbers for 300.
“‘How old was Burke when he lost his virginity?’”
I guess sixteen. Burke’s answer is fourteen.
Taylor chooses the next question: Baby Burke for 200.
“‘When he was little, what did Burke want to be when he grew up?’” Andie asks.
I don’t have a clue. I chug the rest of my rosé and guess astronaut. Burke’s answer is policeman.
Kate chooses Burke’s Quirks for 500.
“‘What is Burke allergic to, if anything?’”
I say sunflower seeds; Burke answers latex.
“I guess you two never use condoms!” Taylor cackles.
I roll my eyes. We don’t—we never have—but still, he’s never told me he’s allergic to latex. And I could’ve sworn he was allergic to sunflower seeds. Why did I think that?
I can feel the shift in Andie’s energy; she’s luxuriating in that I appear to know nothing about my fiancé. My heart is in my lap by the time Lexy chooses Skye’s World for 100.
“Skye’s World for one hundred,” Andie chirps. “‘What is Skye’s favorite song?’”
“‘River of Dreams,’” I mutter. I just want the game to be over. “Billy Joel.”
Andie clicks on the matching file and Burke’s voice fills the room: “‘River of Dreams’ by Billy Joel.”
The group cheers, and I feel momentarily revived until the next question, Baby Burke for 400.
“‘How much did Burke weigh when he was born?’”
“That’s a hard one,” Isabel says kindly, and I know she knows that I have no idea.
“Seven pounds, ten ounces?” I guess. “Something like that.”
“Ten pounds, four ounces,” Burke answers when Andie clicks play. “I was a giant baby. My poor mom.”
I sink back into the couch, my stomach pooling with a feeling that resembles dread. Had Burke told me he’d been such a big baby? Had I simply forgotten?
The questions keep coming. What is Burke’s least favorite vegetable? I say broccoli; the answer is asparagus. What kind of dog did Burke have growing up? I guess golden retriever; the answer is none—a trick question. What is Burke’s favorite TV show? I guess The Wire; he answers The Sopranos.
The secondhand embarrassment in the room is palpable by the time we reach the last question.
“I’ll read this one.” Andie clears her throat. “Bedroom Bound for five hundred. ‘What is Burke’s biggest sexual fantasy?’”
“Yee-haw!” Lexy jumps on the couch and mime-throws a lasso while she humps the air. I can tell she’s wasted.
The other girls are looking at me, waiting. I sip more Whispering Angel, grateful to whoever keeps topping off my wine.
I have no idea what Burke’s biggest sexual fantasy is. We have what I would consider to be a good sex life—fulfilling, fun, adventurous enough—but we’ve never discussed our sexual fantasies. Somewhere underneath the five thousand glasses of rosé I’ve consumed since noon, I’m humiliated, but in this moment I’m suddenly clouded with anger.
“I don’t know.” I glare at Andie. I hate her for making me feel this way, for taking pleasure in it. For ruining this perfect day with a stupid game that she used to make her point: that Burke and I hardly know anything about each other because you can’t actually know someone in nine months, not enough to commit to marrying the person.
“Guess, then.” Andie folds her bony arms across her chest, her hazel eyes piercing.
By now most of the others have lost interest in Bachelorette Jeopardy. Lexy is busy connecting her phone to the Bluetooth speakers, and Kendall, Soph, and Taylor are in the kitchen making margaritas. Only Isabel and Kate are still watching Andie and me.
“Do you know Spencer’s sexual fantasy?” I ask Andie. It comes out like an accusation, but I don’t care.
“As a matter of fact, I do,” Andie retorts sharply, and I wish I’d never asked. I suddenly realize that I’m acting exactly the way she wants me to.
“Fine,” I say. “I’ll guess Burke’s answer. Threesome.” I know it’s wrong.
Andie hits play on the video. “Oh, boy.” Burke laughs. “I guess I’d have to say getting tied to the bed.”
“Ooooh!” Kate exclaims. “Now you know what to do on the honeymoon, babe.”
I’m thrilled the game is over, but I can’t help but notice the triumphant way Andie folds up the poster board and gathers the Jeopardy cards. It’s something imperceptible to everyone but me.
Lexy has finally figured out the Bluetooth, and “River of Dreams” blares through the speakers. “Cheers to our sweet baby Skye!” Lexy whips out a small plastic baggie of white powder. “Any takers?”
“You know, for someone who wants to become a mother in the near future, you sure aren’t showing very maternal instincts.” Andie whisks the baggie from Lexy.