THE FOLLOWING SUNDAY, THE SLAVES’ one day off, Mary Grace and Gray jumped the broom. Mary Grace wore a simple, white cotton dress and a lace veil held in place with a crown of daisies. Earlier that morning I’d applied shea butter to her long, raven-black hair and brushed it until it was smooth and shiny. She’d pulled it back from her heart-shaped face and held it with a simple pin. She was the image of a beautiful, glowing bride.

Father forbade me from attending the wedding, as it was a slave celebration, he said. I spent the afternoon in my room, where my window provided the best view of the slave quarters.

On an old wooden table stood the five-tier wedding cake that I’d insisted Mammy let me help her make. It was white to honor the purity of the day, with each tier decorated with edible flowers in shades of pink and mauve. People danced and clapped to the fiddler’s songs, celebrating in genuine happiness for the couple. Their joyous laughter filled the evening air.

I watched as Mary Grace lovingly kissed her groom, then let the curtain fall and leaned back on the window seat, feeling a little sad at how things would change between us, now that Mary Grace was a wife. How time had flown! We were no longer children, and with age came expectations. I was concerned about what Father would try to do about my unwed situation.

With the nightgown I’d purchased for Mary Grace for her wedding night tucked under my arm, I headed downstairs.

Mammy entered the house from the celebration, her face aglow with happiness. “Et’s a blessed day, angel gal, a blessed day!” she sang.

“That it is.”

“Dat Gray will make my gal happy.”

“He is a good man, and dashingly handsome,” I said with a smile.

“Dat he is, chile!” Mammy chuckled, her large body shaking. Noticing the package I held under my arm, she asked, “What do you have dere?”

“It’s a new nightgown for Mary Grace.”

“You’re a good gal, Miss Willow. A real fine gal. You best git movin’ if you are wantin’ to catch her ’fore she leaves. Your pappy done gave her a pass. She gwine to Gray’s cabin on de Armstrong Plantation for de night.”

I scooted out the door, hoping to catch Mary Grace before they left.

Finding Mary Grace seated upon Gray’s horse and Gray about to swing himself up, I called out, “Mary Grace!” and waved, trying to grab their attention. Gathering my dress, I ran toward them.

Breathless, I stopped and just soaked in the joy radiating from their faces. I smiled as I gazed into Mary Grace’s dancing eyes and held up the package. “A gift for you.” She held the gift to her chest and thanked me.

I smiled fondly at Gray. “Congratulations on marrying the most beautiful woman in all of Charleston.”

“Don’t I know et.” He grinned.

“You’d best run along.” I gave Mary Grace’s hand a squeeze and stepped back.

Gray mounted up and the cloudless, moonlit night swirled them away.