"Oh, sure," James agreed readily enough. "Could've been her sister. Crazy bint." He gave a mock-shudder.
James didn't do brooding. He always wanted to be moving - toward the next step, the next challenge, the next level. If something bothered him, he wanted to be moving toward a solution. The trouble was, the things that bothered him now (and there were many) had no solutions. Thinking about them too much would inevitably drive him mad. And he wanted to avoid that. Having come all this way, escaped from the grave, and been reunited with his best friends and his son, only to go mad seemed wasteful.
Thus the shiny, noisy, colorful distraction. He felt more like himself already.