ficwhatfic | The Price Legacy - Generation One

Two weeks went by, and still no word from Katrina Caliente.

Don left several apologetic voicemails pleading for a second chance, vowing he could change.

Maybe she knew it was an empty promise.

His eyes shifted from the Caliente residence to the wishing fountain.

During his shifts at the food stand, he watched customers eat their lunch or drink their iced coffees, walk over to the fountain, and toss their loose change into the fountain.

This action has always annoyed him. For starters, they could’ve just deposited those coins into his tip jar. Secondly, he didn’t believe in luck or destiny. Your actions and words determine your fate. Throwing coins into a fountain wasn’t going to factor into what happened in your life, or which road you were going to take. If he waited for a sign to predetermine where to go and what to do, he would’ve never left his toxic family behind, and he might’ve never ended up in Oasis Springs.

Then again, Marci threw a coin in there once, and her life definitely improved since then.

Maybe she was onto something…

He needed a change. A drastic one.

What did he have to lose?

He made a wish and tossed a coin into the water.

Don: “This is stupid.”

His phone rang.

Speak of the devil herself.

Don: “Your ears must’ve been burning.”

Marci: “Why, were you talking shit?”

Don: “You know it. What’s up?”

Marci: “I was thinking, Josh is taking Louis and the twins to visit his mom tomorrow. I can’t go because by the time I get home from work, they’ll be long gone, so…I’ll have the house to myself until late. Did you want to swing by after work? We can, I don’t know, watch a few movies and get some takeout? I haven’t watched an honest to fuck adult film in ages!”

Don: “Will there be beer?”

Marci: “You know it.”

Don: “Cool. I’ll be there.”

The next day, Don dropped by.

Even though she disapproved of the situation with Katrina and Dina and readily chewed him out, Marci still reached out and checked on him. For someone who claimed to have a little black heart or no heart at all, she never hesitated to express her affection for him, even when he barely deserved it.

And tonight, her generosity surprised him.

Marci: “By the way, I have a gift for you. It isn’t much, but…”

She handed him a key.

Don: “What’s this for?”

Marci: “A spare for our front door. Josh and I each have our own, and now you do, too. If you ever need a place to crash, whether we’re home or not...”

Don: “Are you sure about this? What’s your husband got to say about it?”

Marci: “I don’t have to run everything by him…but I still asked, and he’s okay with it. Seriously, don’t even worry about it. I’ve been meaning to make you a copy for a while, anyway.”

Don: “Damn, I wish I knew what to say. Thanks.”

Marci: “Yeah, well…I’m pretty awesome. Besides, if Josh and I ever stay somewhere overnight, someone has to come and water our plants. May as well volunteer you for the job.”

Marci: “Now, decide what you want to order already! I want to get this movie started!”

Don: “Please tell me this isn’t one of those awful zombie movies that you like so much.”

Marci: “Better! This is a vampire movie - and they face off with corrupted mermen! I hear the violence is so graphic and intense, it made the audience goers puke in their seats. The producers hired therapists to provide mental health services at the theater for people who were seriously traumatized!”

Don: “I’m confused. Is this something we’re supposed to enjoy, or am I getting punished?”

An hour and a half later, the movie was over. Somehow Don managed to hold down his lunch, whereas Marci was massively disappointed and spent a good twenty minutes ranting and raving.

Marci: “…And forget how insufferably annoying the main character acted from start to finish! That was nowhere near as violent as I expected!”

Don: “Marci, one of those vampires got flayed alive by a merman’s bare hands and claws and literally couldn’t die even if he wanted to…and your takeaway was that it wasn’t violent enough? That whole scene almost made me throw up.”

Marci: “Almost! That’s the keyword! And it was one isolated moment out of the entire movie! All those head decapitations? Amateur stuff. All those extras were obviously dummies.”

Don: “Shit, I hope so, as opposed to…you know, actual people.”

Marci: “You know what I mean! The special effects team barely did anything to make them seem real. Which is fine when you don’t have the budget and shit for it, but they could clearly afford to pull off some amazing shit! If you really want to shock and disgust me, let me see the inside of that guy’s neck! Set the flayed vampire on fire! Make all the risen corpses’ body parts fall apart as they rise again! Stir my soul and make me unable to look at myself in the mirror for a couple of weeks without seeing tendons and joints!”

Her enthusiasm about realistic murders and body dismemberment would’ve disturbed him if it came from anyone else, or if she wasn’t so damn adorable while she ranted and raved. He laughed and pulled her close.

Don: “Never change, you nutcase.”

Marci: “What can I say? I set my standards pretty damn high.”

Don: “As you should. Hey, do we have time for another movie? Can I pick the next one?”

Marci: “Sure. We got a couple more hours to kill.”

On the coffee table in front of them, Don’s phone went off.

They both saw the notification. It was a text message from Katrina.

Marci: “Oh, did uh…you want to get that?”

Don: “She knows I’m busy. I’ll text her later.”

Marci: “Wait, she knows? When did you talk to her?”

Don: “I was on my way to your place when she called. She asked if I could drop by.”

Don: “I told her I couldn’t, that I was meeting up with a friend…”

Don: “She asked me to come over later after we were done. I think she wants to try and work things out between us.”

Marci: “Are you sure talking with Kat is such a good idea right now? Dina said she still won’t even talk to her…and I thought you said you didn’t want her back?”

Don: “I don’t know. Maybe I do? I miss her, more than I thought I would. What do I even say at this point, though? ‘I’m sorry I kissed your daughter’? Shit. It sounds so fucked up when I say it. How do you even come back from that?”

Marci: “I mean…you said you and Dina were drinking, right? People make mistakes when they’re drunk.”

Don: “You don’t have to do that, make excuses for me. I know what I did. I hurt Katrina. Hell, I wanted to hurt her. I know I fucked up, drunk or not — and I know you think less of me for it.”

Don: “It’s weird. I was messed up over Kat and Dina. I never wanted them to fight like that…”

Don: “When you called me out, though? I kept replaying your words in my head for days. I guess I don’t care so much about what other people think…not as much as I care about how you see me.”

Marci: “I don’t think less of you, Don. If I really didn’t care about you, I wouldn’t have bothered calling your ass out, let alone give you a key to my house. I think you should care less about how I feel though, or anyone else for that matter, and worry more about how you see yourself.”

Marci: “Remember the night Josh proposed to me when I said I was grateful that we both knew we were scum? I don’t know if that’s such a good thing anymore — believing in that, that is. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life on the edge, ready to run from my problems or bury how I feel. That’s not what I want. I don’t think you want that, either.”

Marci: “If there’s anything that being with Josh has taught me…is that we don’t have to settle for what we think we deserve or deny what we actually want in our lives. He didn’t - and he encouraged me to do the same. Instead of leaning into it, we can just say ‘fuck them’ and prove the assholes wrong. Instead of being miserable, we can just be happy.”

Don: “Happy? I don’t even know what that means, to tell you the truth. I thought I did, but…”

Marci: “Then tell me this. Do you love Kat?”

Don: “I don’t know what that means, either.”

Marci: “Quit twisting my arm—”

Don: “No Marci, really. What is love? Define that for me.”

Don: “I know I’ve been with a lot of women. I should know what love is by now — but I don’t. Not really. Getting with someone, it’s always nice in the beginning, but…”

Don: “No matter who I’m with, or how gorgeous they are, or how good the sex is?”

Don: “I feel nothing with them. Not like…”

Marci: “Like what?”

He thought back on that night.

The night they never talk about.

If infatuation and sexual attraction were love, then sure, Don felt it.

He hooked up with countless other women. After a while, they blended in with each other, good or bad. It wasn’t that he regretted these encounters, or that he didn’t have fun; he was always down for a good time. He just never felt the spark with any of them - the one everyone talks about when they connect with the right person. Even with Kat, he never experienced it, never mind that she clearly did.

Kissing Marci, however…

It felt dangerous — he was dangerous, destroying everything he touched.

It felt delicate — she was delicate, more than she realized.

He would ruin her if she let him.

Don: “Never mind. I’m just making shit excuses. Classic Don Lothario. Who saw this one coming, right?”

Marci: “Oh, don’t start that with me! You spend all this time saying you’re a fuck up, that cheating on Kat was inevitable and bound to happen because it’s just who you are…but that’s crap.”

Don: “Is it, though? Look at what I’ve done so far, Marci. Everyone expected this from me. Admit it, you did too. Hell, you almost closed the door right in my face when we met, remember?”

Marci: “(snort) Oh, I remember. Yeah, you deserved it then…but you turned that impression around, didn’t you? Are you or are you not sitting on my couch right now? If you truly were nothing more than a heartless scumbag, Don, I wouldn’t waste a goddamn second on you!”

Marci scooted closer and grabbed his other hand.

Marci: “You didn’t kiss Dina because you couldn’t help yourself, or because it's how you're programmed, or to get revenge on her. You kissed her because you wanted to blow up your relationship with Kat. It's getting serious and you’re still not satisfied and you’re not ready to face it — and it’s easier to cheat and walk away than unpack your own shit.”

Marci: “I get what it’s like to be underestimated and written off, to have your mistakes and poor behavior haunt you. After a while, you start believing what everyone says, that you’re evil and incapable of doing anything right…and you stop seeing the point in trying. Trust me, I know evil. I’ve been evil, and you’re nowhere close to that. You’re a hot mess, but you’re not a bad guy. You’re no different from anyone else, Don. No different from me. You deserve to be happy, too.”

Don: “I…I don’t think anyone has ever said that to me.”

Marci: “Well, I’m glad to be the first.”

Don: “A 'hot mess', huh?”

Marci: “Well…I was going to call you a flaming trashcan fire, but I wanted to soften the blow.”

Don: “Just admit it, you like that I’m a hot mess.”

Marci: “Maybe. Takes one to know one. I mean, look at me. I’m a disaster.”

Don: “A beautiful disaster.”

Marci: “Oh, gross. Does that line work on anyone? Is that all you got?”

Don: “I’ve got more tricks up my sleeve.”

They shouldn’t do this.

He shouldn’t let her kiss him.

And he shouldn’t be kissing her back.

He was going to ruin her…

No — she was going to ruin him.

And he was going to let her.

Don: “You…you have a husband.”

Marci: “Josh is okay with this. I promise.”

Don: “Marci…”

Marci: “I want this, Don. I want you…but if you don’t feel the same, we can stop.”