The way it absolutely should have gone, in Macy's opinion, is something like:
No witch killings, no one breaks open Harry's darklighter bottle, and none of them ever even know about Abigael Caine. "Abigael? I don't know her," Macy says, and not like the Mariah meme, but because she doesn't know Abigael.
Macy doesn't get the job in Ann Arbor. It's September and Maggie insists on a party. Macy has a set amount of tequila so she tells Maggie that she applied to the job in Ann Arbor. She doesn't want Mel to know she'd be willing to leave the house and commute. She's so used to living alone. She's used to being isolated. And now she has her insane demon side to worry about, too, another reason for not being surrounded by people she cares about.
There's actually no amount of tequila that will get Macy to say she doesn't mind if she sees less of Harry.
She would mind. She would have been upset a little, and thought about Harry too much. But it's such a familiar feeling. She knows that flavor of misery pretty well, frankly.
But she didn't get the job in the better version. And after the party, when they're all a little bit hungover except for Mel, of course, Maggie tells Mel that Macy applied for the job. "Why?" Mel sounds hurt. Macy is surprised, again, that she has that power. She's still not used to sisters.
Macy says, "It was a dream job. And I could still commute. I'd just call Harry."
Harry smiles, just for a moment. "Hopefully, we would get to see you more than just when emergencies arose."
"It's all moot anyway," Macy says.
"Yeah, but, you still applied," Mel says.
"I'm an adult," Macy says. "I know we have responsibilities, but I also get to have my career, right? Being a witch is not a career."
"Not for us," Maggie says.
"It's not for me, either," Mel says. "It's just all really busy right now. At some point, this part will be easier."
Harry shakes his head slightly. He says, "I don't know how much your workload will be reduced in the future. It may be years before you can really start to maybe take it easy."
"That's not acceptable," Mel says. "Not to me."
"Really?" Maggie looks surprised. Macy is surprised again, too, but she feels better that Maggie is.
"Yes, really," Mel says. "I accept relationships are going to be nearly impossible, I get it, but I can't accept that I can't have anything but this for years. How do we make this easier to us now and in the future?"
Harry says, "Training maybe, but also enlisting more witches to help you, to take on some responsibilities. That's a thought." He disappears.
Macy says, "Okay. We should do something, I guess, while we wait."
"Talk about you secretly applying for jobs?" Maggie smirks.
Macy grimaces. But she sits down and they talk. They have a really good talk, the three of them.
Harry's idea is even more training, of course. Lots of reading the Book of Shadows and learning about all the forest creatures, the ocean creatures, everywhere from a children's book creatures. And easy to meet them, apparently, since the Elders are gone and they all want help. Mel takes to it like a duck to water, and Maggie is always so warm to everyone and everything. Macy feels a little like a freak because she finds some of them a little off putting.
Harry says, "No, they're off putting." He says it very quietly. "The smell alone."
"Thank God it's not just me," Macy says.
Maggie says, "It's not just you. I cover it up better than you two losers." She smiles and it's not even mean.
The other avenue Harry pursues is meeting other witches. He does a few on his own, comes back with his report. Maggie and Mel and Macy ask a million questions. Harry says, "Fine, next time I'll bring one of you."
Somehow it's always Macy. She pretends to be bothered a little. She isn't at all. "It's kind of like a vacation around the world," Macy says to Harry.
"Sadly, there are no witches in Nice. I checked," Harry says.
"But we've already been to Paris. My first time in Paris," Macy says, smiling. "And we had time for lunch."
"We did," Harry says. He's smiling, too. "I'm surprised we've gotten this far without any demons or evil doers discovering our travels. We would be a target."
"I'm a witch and you're a whitelighter, how are we a target?"
"We're away from the Book of Shadows, we don't know the terrain," Harry says.
"You know you're jinxing us, right?" Macy leans closer than she intends. They're in Ottawa, in the suburbs. It's a very white place in many senses of the word.
"Yes, I am now realizing that," Harry says. He looks around at the grey expanse. "At least here we can see them coming."
But they get home without incident. "The witches in Ottawa are kind of a dud," Macy says. "Not that they're not very nice, they are. But they care a lot about their home and mostly their home. They've had to do a lot to defend it."
"I'm sure," Mel says. She nods. "But we've found two so far. That's good. Honestly, a better ratio than I thought we'd find."
Harry disappears off somewhere. Maggie says, "How are those trips going?"
"Good," Macy says. "It's good. It's actually a little fun, honestly."
"Of course it's fun," Mel says. She smirks. "It's Meghan Markle. You really enjoy spending time with Meghan Markle."
"Oh, we're using that name again," Macy says. "Why?"
"Because you've got a thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing for him," Mel says. "You totally do."
"It's really sad," Maggie says. "It's cute, but really, Macy. I feel like you could do more rawr sexy."
"He's not, he's not --" Macy says.
"He kinda is," Mel says. "A little milquetoast."
"Oh, sorry," Macy says. "Sorry Meghan Markle isn't your type."
"Actually the real Meghan Markle is one hundred percent my type," Mel says.
"Come on," Maggie says. "She's everyone's type."
Macy nods. "Anyway, I'm not admitting to any of this."
"You don't have to admit it now," Maggie says. "But you should start thinking about it."
"No more Elders," Mel says. "Nobody's enforcing dumb rules like no witch and whitelighter fraternizing."
"Yeah, we don't have a problem with it," Maggie says. "We're the ones in charge. Sort of."
Then they're out talking to more witches. They meet a great one, a woman named Layla. She's tough and smart and wants to help everyone. She and Harry are wandering around the tiny city in Maine where Layla lives. They get to the edge of the town where it turns into nothing, just forest and some farms and intermittent creepiness. Harry puts his hand up. "We should go," he says.
"Then let's --"
There's fire everywhere and someone cackling in Macy's ears. She puts her hand out and tries to stop the fire by pushing it down, blocking it from oxygen. It actually sort of works. She's been practicing. The cackling stops and she turns to see Harry behind a scruffy looking guy. Harry is strangling the guy, his forearm tight against the guy's neck. It's almost scary violence, and Macy ignores that it's turning her on. The guy's eyes shine red. The demon turns to black smoke and starts to trail off somewhere. Macy tries to remember the spell Mel was trying to teach her to trace demons.
She can't remember before the smoke and the demon is gone.
"Fuck," she says, sighing.
"We did well," Harry says, reassuring as always. "This was good."
Macy is angry with herself for not remembering the spell and proud she's improved her mastery of her powers. She's scared, too, and somehow all three emotions push her over the edge to some kind of courage.
She reaches for Harry's hand. She squeezes his hand and says, "Maybe we can go somewhere. Before we go home. If you want."
Harry just smiles. But he takes them to Nice, and it's beautiful. It's so beautiful. And Harry looks much better in a bathing suit than she imagined.
That's absolutely how it should have gone. But instead, Macy is living in a limbo and she just watched Harry making out with Abigael. Everything is awful. Nothing is the way it should be. The only good thing is that she still has Mel and Maggie.
But there is always space for hope. She knows what she wants now, that's a good thing, too. There's no way Abigael could ever pull off whatever act she has going long enough for Harry to be fooled. So, hope. Hope.