"Nice way to think about it," Noah said with marked discomfort. "I'm thinking you've been on tenterhooks for far too long with that attitude," he said looking at Stiles with concern. Perhaps the kid really had been through too much lately, or maybe he was just trying to see the humour in this whole raucous mess.
The expression that crossed Stiles' face drove a stake into Noah's chest as he realised how his son was thinking. "This wasn't...that Claudia," he said taking his son's hand and squeezing it between his meaty palms. "She was young and beautiful and..." the version of her he'd missed every day since she'd died.
Strangely, Noah believed what Stiles was telling him, which meant the kid was adjusting to the ebb and flow of the hotel better than even he was. "I figured I'd better give you a few days to come to terms with it before I sounded you out," he told him with a frown, "but I'm glad it's not taking you to dark places."