Where were you last night?

"Where were you last night?" was a question I have always dreaded. Perhaps it is because I never remember. Perhaps it's because it's unimportant to me. But I think it's because it's really none of the lady's business. Still, it was a question that I faced every morning.

I live next door to a superbly nosy lady. Everyone is an artist and her art was to make me feel two inches high. I can picture her in my mind with a stone and a pitcher, squeezing the stone ever so gradually with increasing pressure until the pitcher spills over and the stone becomes a grain of sand. I was always the stone in this image. She compressed my mind into a pea each time she spoke and I, dutifully trying to be polite, always answered.

"Where were you last night?" she would say, leaning conversationally over the fence separating our front yards.

"Well..."

"Not that it is any of my business, understand, but I noticed that your car came home very late. I just wondered if you were doing anything special."

I tried to remember that I had good manners. "Well, I was..."

Her beady eyes glimmered. "Say," she interrupted. "I bet you have a new man-friend. Just tell me if I'm getting too personal, but I've noticed lately that you haven't been keeping with your regular hours. I know there must be something like that because you seem like such a sweet young lady and I know you deserve to meet someone special; I'll bet he's handsome..."

I stared at her blankly.

"Yes, I'll bet that's it, dear. What's his name?"

"No ma'am, it's not like that at all."

"Oh, beating you, is he?" She frowned disapprovingly. "You know, I had a friend who was abused like that. Something terrible huh, dear? Just tell me if I'm bothering you but, do you really love him enough to stick with that kind of abuse?"

"Actually, I'm not being abused, I'm..."

She cut me off again. "No? Then he must be cheating on you. Now hon, don't stand for that sort of thing. No man is worth sharing. It spreads them a little thin, you know."

"Actually, I don't know but I'm trying to tell you that..."

She cut in. (That woman had excellent timing for that sort of thing.) "Well, now that I look at you, you really don't look very abused or neglected. However, I can see a glow in your face for sure. You must be cheating on him! Now hon, cheating is bad from either side. You can't try to fool someone like that. After all, he is your man and I think that's downright improper of you to string along the poor dear like that."

She paused for a breath so I jumped at the chance. "Actually I'm not cheating on anyone. I'm just trying to say that..."

My neighbor nodded approval. "Of course, dear. How silly of me. You're such a sweetheart... still, you do look rather radiant. I know! You're pregnant! Of course. Does your man know? I'm not going to poke my nose in your business but you really should see a doctor. After all, you want a happy, healthy baby. Did your friend take you out last night to celebrate? You really aren't showing very much yet. When are you due dear?"

"I'm not pregnant! I don't have a man-friend! I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Now, now. No need to get all edgy," she said defensively. "I'm trying to be a good neighbor after all. No need to shout. I just want to help you through this time in your life."

"You believe me?" I asked incredulously.

"Of course. I know this must be a very difficult time for you."

"Difficult time?"

"Dear, you don't need to hide the truth. I'm so sorry that your friend left you when you told him you were pregnant. But I think an abortion was rather drastic, don't you? Adoption is a much better answer for unwed mothers."

"Now see here, I... Have... Never... Been... Pregnant! I... Was... Not... Left... By... Anyone!

"Ah!" the woman said with great insight. "You're getting married. That's wonderful, hon." She rubbed her hands together happily. "Are you going to get married before or after you have the baby?"

I stared at her blankly. "What baby?"

She put a hand to her mouth. "Oh dear, oh dear. I am so sorry, dear. I had no idea."

"No idea? About what?"

"Your miscarriage. Oh, that is so horrible. It is just like losing a full-term baby, isn't it?"

She put a hand consolingly on my shoulder and I had to concentrate most of my energy on resisting the temptation to swat her away. Therefore, I was even less prepared for her next remark.

"So that idiot of a male left you after you told him that you lost the baby." Her face clouded over with self-righteous anger. "Imbecile! Of course I know that you still believe he will come back but if I were you, I wouldn't count on it... I wouldn't want it either." She shook a fist for emphasis.

I sighed and shook my head.

"Ah, you poor thing. Don't worry, it's not the end of the world. Why don't you come over and I will fix you a nice, hot cup of tea." She smiled encouragingly.

I didn't have the heart to turn her down, so I trudged through the gate to her yard and allowed her to lead me to a cushioned rocking chair on her porch. A moment later she was pouring hot tea into a mug. She kept shaking her head and tsk-tsking. I felt horrible at accepting this unexpected hospitality under false pretenses, so I decided to tell her the truth. That is, if she would let me.

"Ma'am?"

"Yes, hon?"

"I just wanted to tell you..."

"Oh no, don't bother thanking me. It's the least I can do under the circumstances."

My eyes teared up. Oh where was the rotten old lady that I could yell at? She had apparently been replaced by this kind one.

Her face showed great concern for my welfare. "Oh sweetie, don't even think about him."

I shook my head once more. "No, please, just listen to me. Try, just once."

"Okay dear. Why don't you tell me then. I'll listen. I promise."

"I wanted to tell you what I really did last night."

She nodded.

I paused a moment. Actually the whole life that this woman in the ugly hat and gardening gloves had put me into was rather romantic. I felt like a heroine in a story. Maybe the people reading that story were just as curious as my neighbor. Everyone, listening, watching, reading. Suddenly I felt very paranoid and strange. I didn't actually have an answer to the question that has plagued me. Where was I last night? I didn't rightly remember.

I pondered the earlier-seeming obvious and the lady watched me with open expectation. At last her nosiness would reap its reward.

I licked my lips. "Well, I don't remember." Maybe I had multiple personalities. It just didn't seem right to leave the woman with such a messy answer. "Maybe it is all that you said," I amended.

She smiled with satisfaction. "I knew it!" she declared triumphantly. "I have a sense about these things." She pottered back into her house and left me on the porch, alone (alone?) with my thoughts.