Chapter 18 – Allie

Life is full of surprises.

Just when you think you have it all figured out, life can throw you a curveball and make you think twice about everything.

Life consists of heroes and villains, but mostly, it just consists of people – flawed human beings that are going through their lives, trying to make their way the best they can… which can be pretty heroic if you think about it.

People make mistakes, and people can be angry and hold grudges, but the greatest human quality, second only to our capacity to love, is our ability to forgive.

Had Carlisle not asked for one night with Rosalie, Emmett wouldn't have felt the need to push him away and prove to himself that he didn't need the rich man's money. He wouldn't have taken his family on a trip to New York when they really couldn't afford it…

Without that small, but monumental indecent proposal, the Marchesseni family would have never boarded that fateful bus...

Had they not boarded that bus, perhaps the driver would have kept his eyes on the road and been able to slam on his brakes the moment he saw Alice step into the street…

Had Alice not been so anxious about becoming a mother, perhaps she wouldn't have stepped backwards into oncoming traffic.

Had the bus driver braked in time; Alice would have lived…

Jasper would have lived…

Edward would have never suffered through twenty-years of self-loathing.

Had Edward not lived under that cloud of guilt for most of his life, he wouldn't have had a reason to follow that flying flier to Bella's show on the exact day of his mother's death.

Had any one of those significant moments not occured just the way they did, Edward and Bella would have never met… and I would have never been born.

Alice Rosalie Marchesseni, or Allie, as I usually introduce myself, was born in the very same small Italian hospital that my father and grandfather were born in, exactly nine-months after my parents met. It also happened to be my grandfather Jasper's birthday.

As much as I would love to feel some sort of guilt for my life being only possible due to a dozen little tragic events, I was taught better than that. Everything happens for a reason, and for me and my three younger siblings, we were all brought into this world with a purpose. That purpose is still a mystery, but it's a mystery that we are all so excited but patiently waiting to discover.

My two little sisters, baby brother, and I spent our childhood running through acres of vines and growing up in the Italian culture. Watching the grapes mature from tiny green flowers into the delicious juicy fruit was always a thrill, and there wasn't a more exciting time of the year than celebrating Vendemmia – the harvest and crushing of the grapes with our bare feet.

But our lives weren't limited to that small rural town of Bivio, Italy. Our parents loved to travel, and they instilled a thirst for exploring the world in all of us. From safaris in Africa, to the Buddhist temples of Tibet. There was hardly a corner of the globe we didn't visit. However, no matter where we went, we never felt lost or far from home because we always had each other.

We had seen a great many places, but one in particular held some of my fondest memories – New York.

We spent every Christmas in Mom's childhood home with Pop, and there was just something about the big city during that time of the year. There was a feeling of almost magic and wonderment as the twinkling lights made me feel like the stars had come down to earth just so we could dance amongst them for a while. We would "Ooh and ahh," at the holiday window displays, and eagerly anticipate our annual skate on the ice rink in Central Park.

Pop originally considered moving to Italy with our mother, but ultimately decided to take a chance on a new relationship with a nurse he sometimes played poker with. We came to lovingly call her "Big Mama Sue". For living on the opposite sides of the Atlantic, we thankfully saw them often, and they traveled to us just as much as we traveled to them.

In between adventures, my father set up his Child Psychology practice not far from the vineyard, where he saw every child needing help, regardless of their ability to pay. So many grateful families came from all over Europe to bring their suffering and traumatized children the help only a professional with personal experience could bring. So many families owed him everything, but their gratitude was more than enough.

My mother surprised everyone by taking over the vineyard. The business aspect of it was enthralling for her, and she grew in ways she never imagined she ever could. But when Carlisle passed away unexpectedly, not even six months after she first began her career in the wine business, her old frail confidence began to shake again. She worried she wasn't ready to do it on her own and would mess everything up. That vineyard was her husband's family history and her children's heritage – a responsibility anyone would stress over. However, between her drive, and Nonno Emmett's knowledge, the vineyard achieved greater heights than it had ever reached before.

"I guess I'm lucky I decided to forgive you, rather than just punch you in the face like I originally wanted to," Mom had told Nonno Emmett after their fifth season together. We were sitting around a bonfire, celebrating with the entire staff because the vineyard ranked in the top five in the entire country, which, needless to say, was a very big deal.

"I am the lucky one, I think," Nonno replied while looking at my dad who was holding my little sister. "Edward always says you are one scary cigno. I believe it," he added with a wink to me as I came to sit on his lap. Nonno's lap was always my favorite sitting spot. He was so big and warm, but he also told the best stories and would sneak me extra sweets.

"Not that he would know anything about that," mom teased. "The only pain I ever inflicted on him was from my tattoo gun."

"That is not true," Daddy disagreed. "I'm fairly certain you broke a couple of my fingers when you were birthing Allie."

"I barely squeezed them," Mom said while rolling her eyes. "You got off easy. Do you have any idea how big her head actually was? No offense, baby," she said to me quickly.

"You said Carlie's was bigger," I said defensively while pointing at my little sister.

"No one has a bigger head than Carlie," Daddy agreed with me while ticking my sister and making her laugh.

"I just hope this one has the smallest head yet," Mom said while rubbing her big belly.

"I'm sorry, Cigno, all babies in my family have big heads," Nonno said carefully with an apologetic smile.

"Don't tell her that, Papà!" Dad scolded him. Now she won't want any more kids after this one."

"How many more do you plan on having?" Mom asked wearily.

"I think five would be the perfect number," he told her.

"Perfect for you because you don't have to push them out. This is our third, I'd say that's enough."

"That means you are having four," Nonno said, making my dad smile but my mom grimace. "What? Compromise. He wants five, you happy with three. Four is perfect."

In the years that followed, me and my two sisters, Carlie and Marie, always liked to tease our baby brother, Angelo, that mom never wanted him. Mom would then proceed to chase us with a wooden spoon because he was the biggest mama's boy anyone had ever seen, and probably her favorite, though she would never admit it.

Looking back on my youth, our lives were so busy, but so full of joy and laughter that we never got bored or felt overwhelmed. There was so much love in our family that it was hard to not take it for granted. But every time I'd see my dad pull my mom in for a tender kiss or a slow dance, even without music, I knew that was the kind of love I wanted someday. She would look at him with so much adoration, and he worshiped the ground she walked on.

Back then, I wasn't aware of all the sadness and suffering that my family had gone through before I was born, just to get to that special place. However, as I grew older, and they began to share their memories and experiences with us, I quickly came to understand that they wouldn't have changed a moment of any of it.

The fires raging in their souls were now only burning with passion for each other and their family, and still, to this day, my parents have yet to spend a single night apart since the moment they met.

This is the story of my parents' lives – and their parents' lives before them.

Or perhaps this is the story of how me and my siblings came to be.

But maybe it goes even deeper than that; maybe this is the story of my children's lives.

All I know for sure is that I am my mother, Isabella, and her mother, Alice. And I am my father, Edward, and his father, Emmett.

I once told my Nonno that I was sad he and my grandmother, Rosalie, didn't get their happily ever after, but he caressed my face, and said – "Yes, we did. Our love lives on, and it will continue to thrive forever in the life of our son, and his children, and their children. You are our happily ever after, and I thank God every day that I'm here to see my Rosa in you."

Anytime I have a bad day, or something doesn't go my way, I remember my grandfather's words, and I find peace because I know it's all part of a bigger story.

In life we love, and we love hard, even when it hurts, and then we continue to love because without it we have nothing. We hope for a happy ending, but really, every ending, good or bad, is just another beginning.

It is joy, and pain.

It's love, and heartache.

It's being the happiest you have ever been, only to be sent down a spiraling fit of excruciating despair.

It's family, and friendships, just as much as it's loneliness.

Sometimes it's beautiful, and sometimes that beauty is shrouded by a cloud of ugliness so dark you lose your way and can't figure out how to escape back to the light.

It's a warm beach and cool sand.

It's icy jagged peaks, and the scorching hot desert.

It's a labyrinth of laughter and tears.

It is life, and death, and everything in between…

It's life, itself.

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***A/N: I considered writing "The End" at the bottom of this chapter, but in life, there is never really any endings. With that being said, this story is now complete!

A special Thank You to CoppertopJ for pre-reading, editing, collage making, and just being as awesome as you are!

And thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed this story. I deeply appreciate each and every one of you.

Once again, if we aren't already friends on Facebook, send me a request at KC Nicnort. I have posted a bunch of images to go with this story as well as all of my others.

Thanks again!