4. Noa #2
“I can grab the cart, Mom.” Tears never fail to crowd my eyes when Joey calls me that.
Of course, he and Kylie know I’m their sister, but Emma doesn’t know any different, so when she called me Mama the first time, they repeated it, not to confuse her.
It’s my greatest blessing and saddest memory because our mom should have been here for it all.
“Sure, Jo.”
Handing him the deposit coin as we get out of the car, he skips along the one stall over to the cart corral as I wait for him. Watching him be careful not to bump other carts and taking the time to look for cars before coming around the posts and over to us makes me smile.
“Your chariot!” Joey bends an arm across his waist and bows like a real gentleman.
“Well, thank you, sir.” I lean down to kiss his cheek and ruffle his hair before handing him the bags he plopped on the passenger seat, then move to get the girls from the car.
He sticks close by, knowing my feelings about them not staying in one place.
I have a sickening fear of one of them getting hit by a car because a driver can’t see them, especially as they’re backing up.
I open Emma’s door to find Kylie already unbuckled and waiting to exit as I pull Emma out first. She looks a little sleepy again, but she’s not fussing, so we should be okay.
“Alright, Miss Ems, you’re up here.” Placing her in the cart’s seat, I get her buckled in and hand her the container of Cheerios I always carry along when we shop. It keeps her from asking for other food and makes her happy.
“Hands on the cart, please.” Joey and Kylie have already done it, holding onto the same side, with Joey in the lead. “Perfect, you still have the list, Ky?”
“Sure do!” She waves the paper over her head.
Here we go. I keep the thought to myself. The grocery store is always the craziest part of our week. “School supplies first. Kylie, is there anything you need for class?”
Tapping her chin, she looks cute with her puckered lips and furrowed brows as she thinks about it. “Nope, I still have things, but Toby, who shares my table, has no pencils or erasers or scissors!” The sadness on her face breaks my heart.
“Have you been sharing with him?” She nods hesitantly and chews her lip, obviously worried she’s in trouble.
“How about we see what we can find, and you can give it to him on Monday?” Her eyes light up.
It warms my heart that she’s so darn generous, and I’m able to do this not only for her but for Toby, too.
I’ve met him a few times; he’s a sweet boy.
I also happen to know that his mom works two jobs to make ends meet. If this helps, then I’m happy to do it.
We find everything Joey needs, grab the items for Toby, which thankfully were on sale, and then hit the food aisles.
“Pantry!” Kylie points ahead of us to the dry-goods shelves, remembering what I’ve taught her about shopping and where to start and finish.
Allowing the kids to each pick out a box of snacks for their lunches, we move on to condiments, and I’m surprised when Kylie asks for a bottle of ranch dressing to dip her vegetables in. She explains that Toby let her try his, so now she wants some.
With the cart organized and loaded full of everything on the list that we could find for the pantry, we’re making our way towards the produce when I hear, “You fucking bitch!” right before my hair gets wrenched back and I’m forced to release the cart or risk hurting Emma if it falls.
“Let her go!” Joey yells as I fight to free myself from the familiar voice behind me. Emma starts screaming while I can see Kylie silently crying.
Ripping out of Matt’s hold, hot tears streak down my cheeks, witnessing the kids’ distress. “Stay there, Jo.” I wait until he nods, tucks Kylie under his arm, while keeping a hand on Emma, trying to calm them, then I confront Matt. “You can’t be near us.” The protection order is crystal clear.
“I can do whatever the fuck I want. Those are my kids,” he snarls at them. The hatred reflected in his glassy eyes tells me he’s drunk and doesn’t give one iota about the kids.
“You need to leave.” It suddenly dawns on me that he’s likely the reason for feeling watched all day.
“Not without them.” He shoves me to the side and goes to grab Emma while she screams bloody murder. Ignoring the stabbing pain in my back, I clench his arm just as a few other shoppers come around the corner to see what the fuss is about.
Matt’s fist connects with the side of my face, and my vision blackens as I see stars, but I realize if I pass out, he could make off with the kids.
“Yo, man, what the fuck!” A guy comes charging forward to shove Matt away from us, while the woman he’s with comes to my aid, helping me stay on my feet when all I want to do is lie down, but I can’t.
“Stay the fuck away from her.” The guy has Matt pinned to the shelf while items crash to the ground; thankfully, all in boxes and nothing breakable.
He’s blubbering and cursing us both, making threats of killing my baby and me, then selling the kids for profit.
“Thank you,” I whisper, throat clogged tight with fear.
Security guards and a couple of managers take over, trying to contain Matt while getting the kids and me out of there to somewhere quiet.
Emma clings to my neck as I pull her out of the cart and into my arms. Kylie is glued to my side, still crying, and Joey fights to hold it together, but I see his tears, too.
“Police and ambulance are on their way,” the manager tells me, I think.
My swollen face throbs with every heartbeat, my pulse races so hard and fast that it’s all I can hear, and once we’re in an office in the back of the store—the kind woman still with us, as well as three or four employees—all sounds are muffled at this point because I can’t focus.
Someone must say, “She’s bleeding,” while pointing at my side. I see that my shirt is torn, probably from when Matt shoved me into the shelf. It’s not a ton of blood, but enough to worry, given my condition.
Joey and Kylie sit in a chair next to me, holding each other, when paramedics walk in. Both appear to be kind as they move slowly and speak gently.
“Hi there, I’m Mayra, and this is my partner, Cody. We’re here to help. Are you two alright?” she asks Joey. When he looks to me for guidance, I nod for him to tell the truth.
“He hurt our mom. She’s bleeding. And he grabbed for Emma, but Mom stopped him, and he hit her again.”
His tears finally fall, and I feel like I’ve failed them all.
“Alright, Mom, how about I take a look at little Emma, and Cody has a glance at you?”
Attempting to release Emma, she refuses to budge. How are kids this small so damn strong?
“That’s okay, we’ll just look at Mom for now,” Cody says softly, trying not to scare Em, who shakes in my hold.
Pulling out an ice pack, he cracks it to activate the gel and instructs me to hold it on my cheek to help the swelling. They cut into the side of my shirt to reveal a long wound, but it’s not so deep that I need stitches. Because of the baby, they insist I go to the hospital, and I agree.
I’m able to walk out to the ambulance, and an officer is kind enough to offer to drive my car behind us with the kids, while her partner takes their cruiser.
As hard as it is to get Emma out of my arms, she’s only swayed because the officer is female and promises food once they arrive and check on me.
When I’m finally in the back of the ambulance, and the kids can’t see me, I begin to sob freely. Of all the times Matt beat me growing up while trying to protect my mom, it was never in public, and there weren’t any threats of death.
“Ma’am, do you feel up to answering some questions?” I don’t know how many officers arrived, but it’s enough that we’re all getting an escort to the hospital, I suppose.
“Sure,” I croak out, and Mayra hands me a bottle of water as she cleans my side.
“Do you know the man who assaulted you and your children?” Officer…Grant, his name tag says, pulls out a pen and pad for notes.
“Yes, he’s my stepdad. My kids' father.” Grant looks up at that, eyes wide, obviously assuming the worst. “They’re my siblings. My mom died during childbirth, and Matt had been abusive for years before, sending my mom into early labor. We have a protection order against him.”
“Do you know when it expires?” He glances up again.
“It’s supposed to be for the rest of his life.” That’s how my lawyer explained it to me when it was put into place.
He nods, writes more, and speaks into his walkie-talkie, relaying the information and asking for the court records to be made available. “Did he touch the children?”
“I don’t think so. He shoved me into the shelf and was going to reach for Emma in the cart when I grabbed him. Then that man yelled at him, and I think it startled him. I don’t believe he was able to touch Emma, but I can’t be totally certain.” I wish I could.
“That’s alright. The store has confirmed that they’ll provide any available footage from before and during the altercation. Is there anything else you can think of to tell me that will help keep him behind bars for as long as possible?”
“It could be nothing,” I hedge.
“Everything can help,” he encourages.
“We went to the park this afternoon, and we were there for a few hours, but from the moment we left our building until we got home, I felt like someone was watching us. And then had the same feeling before we left to go shopping. I didn’t see anything off, so I just chalked it up to some weird pregnancy thing.
” I feel slightly foolish explaining myself.
“Listen, Noa, I’ve been on the job a long time.
Dealt with situations similar to this one too many times to count.
You listen to that intuition because it could be the difference between life and death.
When those hairs on the back of your neck stand up, there’s a reason.
Never feel like you're overreacting or being dramatic. Many cops will tell you the same.” His intensity makes me feel slightly better.
“Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.” The ambulance comes to a stop, and Officer Grant slides his card into the side of my purse with instructions to call him anytime if we’re ever in trouble or I have questions about our case.
After thanking him, the doors open, and the stretcher I’m on is pulled out as Mayra explains my injuries and her thoughts. My face is killing me, my side stings, but the baby is moving, and I’m relieved that we’re safe now.
Before the kids are allowed in to see me, I’m given a gown to change into, examined from head to toe, and placed on monitors for myself and the baby.
Things look fine so far, but they want to keep me overnight for observation.
Thankfully, they put me in a private room so the kids can stay, and I won’t have to find someone to watch them for the night.
“Knock, knock.” The officer who brought my siblings here opens the door an inch. “Ready for visitors?” My head nods before she’s done.
As soon as the door slides in all the way, all three come rushing over. Joey helps the girls up onto the bed, where they lie next to me while he jumps up behind Emma.
“I’m okay, guys. We’re all okay,” I try to reassure them, though it comes out flat because emotionally, I’m a damn wreck.
“They’ve eaten, hydrated, and I ordered some meals to be brought up in a little while for all four of you. They’re darling children.” She smiles at them all holding onto me for dear life.
“Thank you so much for taking care of them for me,” I reply. “I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”
She steps forward, placing a bag on the tray and squeezing my foot. “You don’t have to. The thing about my job is that I love helping wherever and whenever possible. If I can make someone’s bad day just a little easier, then I’m happy to do it.”
She leaves soon after, but not before sliding her card into my purse as well.
Today started so well, then turned terrible, and now I’m so filled with gratitude for our first responders. Never in my life have so many people taken such great care of me and expected nothing in return.
As the night grows quiet, Joey and Kylie settle into the cot that was brought in for them, while Emma stays in bed with me, and I’m left with my thoughts about how we’ll move forward from here.
Matt knows where we live, and when he gets out, he’ll come for us.
I feel it in my soul. Which circles my thoughts back to Carmine.
He was pretty adamant that there was no future for us, and he’ll likely turn us away anyway because he has no idea about my kids, but he might be our only option.