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Sure, I’d love a piece of cake. I’ve heard a lot about red-velvet cake, but would you believe that I’ve never had any? I’ve heard that it’s traditionally a groom’s cake here in the South.”
    Lulu couldn’t repress a small shudder. Oh no—was he going to be one of those pushy kinds of suitors? And—would this day ever end?

Chapter 7
    The day that had started a little too early for Lulu and had involved a too-long conversation and snack with Gordon finally came to a close. Lulu drove home with a huge feeling of relief. The red-velvet cake that Ben had baked and attributed to Lulu was delicious, of course. Through the years, Ben had become an amazing cook. Lulu was worried. If the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach, and Gordon thought Lulu had been the one to make the cake, then he was probably well on his way to falling head over heels with her.
    As she arrived home, Lulu blinked at seeing an older-model Volvo in her driveway, right next to Steffi’s car. Visitors? Would this day ever be over? Lulu knew that she wasn’t going to be able to resist the urge to pull out some food for her company, whoever they might be.
    A tall brunette with high cheekbones and a familiar face stood up as Lulu walked through the kitchen door. “Lulu? Hi. . . . It’s Marlowe. Marlowe Walter, Tristan’s sister. Steffi’s in the bedroom, packing—I offered to let her stay at my place until everything settles down with her mom’s house.”
    “So good to see you again, Marlowe! It’s been years, hasn’t it?” Lulu shook Marlowe’s hand and then said sadly, “I’m sorry about your sister. It must have been such a shock when you found out.”
    Marlowe sat back down at the kitchen table. “It really was, actually. I’d gone out of town for a few days for work, and Steffi called my cell phone to give me the news. I can’t imagine Tristan allowing herself to be murdered,” said Marlowe with a short laugh. “I’d have bet on Tristan against any attacker.”
    Lulu felt a little ill at ease. It had been awkward listening to Steffi and Loren mourn Tristan earlier, but somehow hearing her referred to in such a harsh tone by her sister was just as bad. She said slowly, “Tristan was a difficult person sometimes, wasn’t she?”
    “You can say that again. Fortunately, though, my sister and I had worked around that difficulty. Through estrangement.”
    “Oh, I’m sorry. You and Tristan weren’t on speaking terms?” Lulu couldn’t imagine not talking to a member of her family. They were tripping up over each other on a daily basis.
    “Not anymore. I finally got tired of being Tristan’s emotional punching bag. She was determined to mess up my life as much as she possibly could. It was a lifelong habit of hers.” Marlowe reached absently for her pocketbook beside her before dropping it back down on the floor again. “I quit smoking a month ago,” she said ruefully, “but the habit of reaching for a cigarette is still there.”
    Lulu really couldn’t help herself. She was compelled to bring out some food, even though all she’d done all day long was put food in front of people. “You know what’s good for that? A little snack. I have some of the most delicious spinach-cheese dip—I got the recipe from one of my good friends after she made some for this party we were at . . .” and before she knew it, Lulu had pulled out plates and napkins and some melba toast and had heated up the spinach dip and put the steaming food in front of them on her red and white checkered tablecloth.
    Lulu asked, “Did you say that Steffi was packing her things?”
    Marlowe spread some of the dip on her melba toast and took a big bite. “She is. I hope that’s okay?” She paused in midbite, as if that were a scenario she hadn’t thought of. “I really appreciate your taking Steffi in for me. She and I have always been close.... I hate that I was out of town when she needed a place to go. Thanks so much for being there