When Andy last saw his mother’s older brother, he had sandy brown hair that was lightly flecked with gray. It was completely silver now, verging on white. Uncle Marty had also lost a great deal of weight. Fighting cancer had left him gaunt and nearly skeletal. He also looked very, very tired, as if the easy chair he was sitting on could swallow him up whole.
Andy was able to stifle a gasp when he saw him, but there was no stifling his flinch when he felt Uncle Marty’s bony fingers on his arm.
“How’reya doing, champ?” he said.
“Fine,” Andy replied, a little too quickly. “I…uh…hope you feel better.”