"May I have some milk, please, Barbara?" Gail further surprised her sorority sisters by knowing their waitress's name.
After that, Barbara knew she had found her first true friend. Some evenings they studied together, either at the school library or in Gail's room at the sorority house. Those evenings in Gail's room, which she had alone and did not share with a sorority sister, became magic to Barbara.
On just their second night talking together in Gail's room, they exchanged brief life histories. Gail was an only child of a successful real estate lawyer involved in commercial property development in the north suburbs of Chicago. Her parents were part of North Shore high society which her mother lapped up like milk to a kitten, and which her father merely tolerated because of the business connections that membership in the elite afforded.
"As for me," Gail confided, "I've already had my fill of society parties and dances and all that kind of life. I think some rich young fools have turned me off to it. Especially one of them. Oh, believe me, I have nothing against money or rich people. I just wish some young men would be less impressed by how much money they have or will inherit. I'd rather they became more serious about what they can do on their own. But I doubt the thought of any serious work has ever entered their mind. I want my future husband to feel his work will lead toward some purpose in life. Something beyond just amassing a lot of money."
Barbara didn't say it, but thought, not without feeling a little guilty, that Gail felt that way about money because she never wanted for it. But she would not hold that against her.
They came from different worlds, but she wanted very much that they could come together as best friends.
Gail almost apologized. "I'm afraid my life hasn't been very exciting or even interesting."
When it came Barbara's turn to do a Reader's Digest of her life, she did not hold anything back, yet did not play for sympathy.