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I broke off suddenly, faintly horrified.
“What is it?” he asked, and glanced around the room, the green eyes missing nothing.
I sat in a chair in front of the dressing table, biting my lip and staring at him.
“Cassie?”
I could tell I was starting to worry him, but damn, how could I have forgotten about that?
“If you don’t say something—” he began, but I shook my head.
“No, it’s fine. I just forgot you don’t know.”
“Know what?”
And now the old Pritkin was resurfacing. He’d been deliberately calm while I had my little freak-out, but now the familia
r scowl was coming back. Probably because he’d had a lot to absorb these past few weeks, and he was afraid another earth-shattering bit of information was headed his way.
“Relax,” I told him. “It’s just . . .” I stopped, not knowing quite how to phrase it. “Rhea is . . . well, you know how Jonas and Agnes were having an affair?”
For a moment, Pritkin just looked at me, as if he were waiting for the punch line. Only that was the punch line, which I guess he figured out. Because a corner of his mouth started twitching. And then the other decided to get in on the act. And suddenly he was laughing.
No, he was laughing, full-on belly-deep guffaws that had him falling back onto the bed and rolling around on the sheets. And now I was the one staring worriedly. And looking around the room, because I was halfway afraid somebody had snuck in and cursed him or something.
Pritkin didn’t laugh. Hardly ever, about anything, and certainly not until his face was red and tears had started to leak out of the corners of his eyes. But he was now. I knew that because I’d climbed onto the bed, seriously concerned, and planted my hands on either side of him so I could look into his face.
He could barely breathe.
“I’m not joking!” I told him.
He tried to gasp out something, failed, and started beating the bed with a fist.
“What is wrong with you?” I pushed his shoulder. It didn’t help, and then he dragged me down beside him, one arm around me, my head cradled on his still laughing chest.
I gave up and just let him get it all out. It took some time. I guess he’d kind of had that pent up for a while.
“Every time, every time, I think I have the world figured out, it proves me wrong,” he finally gasped. “Perhaps I should stop trying.”
“Works for me,” I told him.
“So Jonas has a daughter,” he mused, staring up at the ceiling. “And kept it hidden all this time.”
“He didn’t know,” I corrected. “Not until recently.”
“He didn’t know?” Pritkin looked like he didn’t understand how that worked.
“Agnes didn’t tell him,” I explained.
“Why not? Why would she—” He stopped, probably at the expression on my face.
Because I wasn’t laughing.
I rolled over onto his chest. “We should be enjoying this while we can,” I told him soberly. “The moments in between, as Tami calls them. Once we get back—”
Green eyes met mine frankly. “What happens when we get back?”
“I don’t know. It’s one of about a thousand things I don’t know right now.”
