They were watching their mother as she cut strips of dough for a lattice-top pie. He patted his seven-year-old nephew’s head and then dropped a kiss on his five-year-old niece’s neatly braided hair. “Mama’s making pie for dessert,” the children chorused.Nate gave them a warm smile. “Watch your mama carefully so you can learn to cook as well as she does.”Gabrielle patted her hair. “Mama and me have the same hair,” she said proudly. Her hair was styled with a profusion of braids that were pinned into a knot on the crown of her head.Sharon Shaw Mills winked at Nate. “She’s been bugging me to braid her hair, so now that school is out, I decided to oblige Miss Thang and take her to the Beauty Box with me.”Whenever he looked at his sister, it was a constant reminder of what their mother had looked like at that age. Sharon had inherited her mother’s petite frame, café au lait complexion, and coal-black curly hair, physical characteristics she’d passed along to her own offspring.“You girls look beautiful,”
