Hi all! I'm ready to share the next chapter of What About Now with you all! Hope you enjoy it! As always, I own the plot and any original characters. I do not own Finn or Rachel or anyone who appeared on Glee. They're property of Ryan Murphy and Co. I have taken creative liberties to fit the story line.

Chapter 7

The moment she hit send, Harper was overcome with a feeling that she could not quite describe. She had sat on the message she had received from Carole for a few days, and as difficult as it was she tried to keep it away from her parents. As much as she trusted in the registry; it boasted on every page that they were screening messages for eligibility, there was a part of her that was hesitant to believe in the idea that the person behind the message, the Carole behind the message possibly had links to her birth father.

Harper had written and rewritten the email over a dozen times. The words were there on the tip of her tongue, but the moment she tried to articulate her thoughts through her keyboard she suddenly was overcome with writer's block. She worried now though, that the version she had sent may have been too timid – a trait that she was anything but. Except now there was no going back. She couldn't undo the message, go back and add more thoughts. She would just have to see what came from the questions she had asked and comments she had made.

She closed the laptop after she finished and decided she needed to get out of the house. One look out the window told her that even though they had been calling for it, the weatherman had been wrong about the snow he had said they would get. She stretched her arms above her head and decided to take advantage of the still clear weather outside and take Samson for a walk around the block. Harper grabbed her favourite oversized hoodie and slipped it over her head before she made a break for the stairs. Getting out would be good for her. And Samson never really turned down a good walk.

"Samson!" she called as she thumped down the stairs. "Samson buddy, want to go for a walk?" she called as she reached the bottom of the stairs. The old pup got up from wherever he had rested himself and met up with her just as she started towards the foyer. She smiled wide when she saw him do his happy dance. "Let's go!" she smiled as she headed towards the front door to grab her pea coat, boots and his leash.

"Harper?" Diane's voice penetrated the air. Her father had long ago locked himself in his office when she had barricaded herself upstairs for 'homework'.

"Yeah?" she called as she clipped Samson's leash to his collar.

Diane appeared out of the laundry room. "You're going for a walk now? Honey, it's late," she started to protest.

Harper fought hard against the urge to roll her eyes. "Mom, it's just passed 7. It's not late," she laughed. "I just need to get out. I've been sitting too long working on some math homework. I need to stretch the limbs."

"Want some company then? I could go for a quick walk," Diane offered. "I can be ready to go in a minute."

"Mom," Harper sighed hesitantly. "Really, I'm fine. Samson is raring to go and I kind of wanted to be alone if that's alright. I have my phone, if it makes you feel more comfortable. And you know Samson is the best guard dog a girl could ask for," she tried to joke. She hoped her mother didn't take offense at her turning down her offer for company.

Diane's features immediately showed that she was taken aback momentarily at the rejection. "Oh. Well, okay then. That's fine," Diane half smiled. Harper nodded at her Mother's words and grabbed her black woolen mittens that were sitting on the small bench beside the door. "I'll make cocoa for when you come back."

"That would be fantastic," she smiled with another nod. She slipped her ear buds into her ears before she slipped the mittens on and grabbed Samson's leash. "We'll be back. Come on boy!"

When she stepped out into the cold air, Harper took a deep breath into her lungs. She enjoyed the cold weather and the way she could see her breath when she blew it out. She walked a lot when she was restless, she could never figure out why exactly it, but it always seemed to help her out. As her and Samson walked down the sidewalk towards the end of their subdivision, Harper allowed the music playing in her ears to transport her to another place. She used music a lot to calm her nerves, take her mind and thoughts away from things at hand. She kept her pace, breathing in the icy air that seemed to help her breathe easier. Samson kept up with her on her left, and she only had to tug on his bright green leash when she needed him to stop to cross the street.

As they walked and the music played through her earbuds, Harper could feel herself starting to relax. She needed to relax. She had a big week at school this week with presentations and another in school volleyball tournament this weekend that added extra practices to her plate. That coupled with the looming thought that her grandmother had contacted her weighed heavily on her shoulders. Keeping it from her parents just made matters worse, for her. But the walk allowed her to let go of what was making her tense, the thoughts that were keeping her hostage, even if it was just for a moment.

Harper walked longer than she had originally set out to, staying out late enough for the previously forecasted flakes to start falling from the sky and the wind to pick up a little as she followed the familiar path back to her house. She had been gone long enough to have her mind settle and her lungs to burn from the cold nipping air. Samson's fur was covered with a thin, melting layer of snow by the time they arrived at the house and she immediately went into the garage to wipe him off before they went in.

Samson danced around as she wiped his fur with the towel her Mom insisted they kept out there.

"You liked that eh old pup?" she laughed as she rubbed his head with the towel. He gave her a low grumble and small bark as she chuckled again. "I'll take that as a yes," she laughed. "Let's go inside. Get a treat?" He did a dance again, slapping his paws against the concrete floor as she went to go in the house. Once the door was open, Samson dashed around her feet and bolted for the kitchen with his leash still attached. Harper smiled as her Mom's laughing exclamation met her ears as she kicked off her boots.

"I said the word treat," she smiled as she walked into the kitchen herself, the smell of hot cocoa too much to ignore. When she entered her Mother was down on the floor holding out a bone to the suddenly hyper dog.

"That's okay," Diane smiled as she let him take it. She unclipped the leash as he chewed and stood up. "You were gone quite a bit longer than I thought you would be," she commented as she brushed off some crumbs from her yoga pants.

Harper tried hard to keep her sigh from escaping too loudly. She knew it was out of love and concern for her wellbeing but she was 18. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "We just got going and I didn't realize how much time had gone by."

It was Diane's turn to sigh, and Harper didn't miss how she didn't keep it back at all. But the reprimand she had been anticipating didn't come. "Want marshmallows with your cocoa?" she offered softly. Harper wondered if it was a peace offering of sorts.

"Lots please," she offered her a half smile to reciprocate what she assumed was the hidden meaning behind the sigh.

Diane nodded and went to get it set up. Harper watched her from her perch at the island, and when Diane turned around and caught her eye she tried to deflect her attention to her phone and Facebook. When the cocoa was ready there was no avoiding her Mother anymore.

She pushed her phone away when she accepted the chocolate drink. "Smells good," she smiled softly.

Diane offered her a small smile. "I tried a new brand so let me know if it's okay," she nodded a little. She grabbed a cloth and wiped around the island. "Did you get your assignment done?" she asked.

Harper swallowed the sip she had in her mouth before she answered her. "Yeah. My part is done. All I can do now is hope that the other parts are as well," she nodded as she spoke. "This is good Mom. Really good."

Diane smiled. "Good. I'll keep buying it then," she nodded.

Harper continued to drink her hot cocoa as her and Diane sat in a stilted silence. She wanted to share so badly with her Mother about the message she had received, but she felt it in her heart that right now wasn't the right moment. Her parents, while being supportive about the whole search for birth parents, hadn't really come around to the idea of anyone being able to message her, without them seeing it first. They had even been leery back when she had signed up for Facebook. They were protective like that. And most days she appreciated it.

Thursday, November 16th – 9:15pm

Dear Carole,

My name is Harper Frances Richards and I have newly turned 18 years old. But you probably could have gotten all that information from the profile my parents and I carefully constructed. I came on to this site to gather information about my birth parents – information that I have longed to have, yet have been denied – like you said – because of the roadblocks put in place because of the stupid New York laws.
Please forgive me, if I don't quite believe right now that you are my grandmother. I mean, I hope you are...but are you really? What can you tell me? Can you help me?

Sincerely,
Harper Richards.

Saturday, November 18th – 1:06pm

Dear Harper,
I understand your reluctance. It must come as a shock, and a little bit of disappointment that I am not your birth father or your birth mother. But please understand that I am someone who deeply cares and loves you and has every day I have known about your existence. I don't have many answers for you, but I can try my best to give you what I do know, if that is what you want. I would love to help you, in whatever fashion that means.

Yours truly,
Carole Hummel

Saturday, November 18th – 1:10pm.

Carole,
So what do you know then? How do I know I can trust you? What can you tell me? Please stop being vague. What do you know? You could really help me out if you just told me their names and what you know.

Harper

Saturday, November 18th – 1:25pm.

Harper,
I'm sorry if my last email seemed to be vague, as you said. This is hard for me, as I imagine it is for you. I've wanted you to be in my life for the last 18 years, for my son to raise you and for you to be in our family. But that was beyond my choice. And how can you trust me? Trust that the registry has allowed these messages to be sent to you. I know you are my Granddaughter, my Finns daughter. You were born November 10th, at 8:58pm at night, at Mount Sinai Beth Israel Hospital in the heart of New York City. You can confirm that with your parents. They would have that information too. You were born to my son and his girlfriend, and before I had a chance to fly down – they had placed you in the arms of your parents and you were gone from my life. Until now.

Grandma Carole

The messages went back and forth for a few days. Each time she checked the registry she felt the anxiety in her chest rise. The woman, Carole, was not wrong about the information she had offered her. She didn't even have to go to her parents to confirm the information – she had enough documents at her disposal; her baby book, some things that she had stored away when they had redecorated her room – framed works that were apart of her childhood room growing up. She knew where she was born, obviously when and where. She knew that her parents had been there when her birth mother had given birth. There was nothing new to her in the information. Except for her birth father's first name.

Finn. A short four letters that seemed to just reverberate in her mind as she sat back on the couch. She had brought her laptop downstairs to work but at the moment she wished she was locked in the safety of her room. There was safety in the walls of her bedroom, it was where this secret of the communication with Carole was held under lock and key.

She kept rereading the emails that she had used his name in. Finn. She mouthed the name a few times quietly, no sound leaving her lips. Her mother was gone to some book club meeting at the library and her father had yet to appear from his office where he had barricaded himself after arriving home from work.

Harper wanted more. It was obvious to her that Carole knew more, she had to have more information that she let on. She chewed her lip as she stared at the email for a few more beats before she opened up the reply pop-up.

Saturday, November 18th – 1:46pm.

Carole,
There are so many questions that I have, mostly about my birth parents. How old were they when I was born? Were they young, like I am now? Or are they older, like my parents? Are they still together? Did they get married? Are they still married? Did they have more children? Do I have brothers and sisters? I'm an only child. My parents waited a long time for me, and even though they have been the best parents in the entire world, I know they would have loved to have a house full of kids. I do have a lot of cousins though, both my parents come from big families so while I've often wished-for siblings, most days I know that I have it pretty good with the family I've called mine for the past 18 years.

Hopefully,
Harper.

"Oh, you're out here."

Harper jumped and slammed down the lid to her laptop when she heard her Dad's voice. "Geez Dad," she cried as she looked behind her to see her Dad standing behind her. "Warn a girl," she sighed.

"Sorry. I haven't been here for very long. Long enough to see your furiously typing on your keyboard. Getting a lot of work done?" he inquired.

"Oh. Um, no. Just chatting with Cora," she fibbed. She watched her Dad nod slowly, as if he was taking in the information she had just offered him.

"Is she doing alright?" Scott asked as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I was thinking of heading out to a movie. Want to indulge your dear old Dad?" he laughed. "You can invite Cora too if you want," he added.

Harper considered the options for a minute. Stay home and stare at the screen keeping up the rouse of that she was talking to Cora or go to the movies with her Dad.

"What are we seeing?" she smiled as she placed the laptop on the coffee table in front of her and stood up. Harper pulled her sweater down so it was sitting right.

Scott threw his head back and laughed. "How about I meet you half way and let you pick? Just no gushy movies where the whole theatre is going to cry," he laughed.

"Deal, there's a new Ed and Lorraine Warren movie out anyway," she chuckled as she grabbed her coat.

Saturday, November 18th, 2:10pm.

Harper,
I wish I had all the answers to those questions. I can answer a few of them though, to the best of my ability. You see Harper, after you were born and subsequently given over to your adoptive parents, things were really rough for my son and his girlfriend. They always had an up and down relationship, even in high school. You see, they were high school sweethearts. They started dating somewhere in sophomore year. I don't know the details or the ins and outs but all I know is your father and mother were the epitome of high school sweethearts. She followed him, and he followed her. Until they broke up.

In fact, I didn't even know they were back together until your birth mother came back to tell him and her parents that you were on your way. They were 20 when they learned they were expecting you. My Finny was 21 by the time you were born, your birth mother wouldn't have been 21 for about another month. They were young, there is no doubt about that. But to see them together, it was like you were looking at two people who were wise beyond their years. But your mother had dreams, and your father – well he figured out what his dreams were through her. My dream, for them, was happiness. I can't speak for them, because I haven't seen either of them in over 17 years.
To my knowledge, they're not together. I don't know what your birth mother is doing – last I heard she was living and going to school in New York City. Her parents used to live here, until about ten years ago when they moved away to a place unknown. Your father though, I couldn't even tell you where he lives, what he does to support himself or if he is with anyone at this time. As I said, I have not seen or heard from him in over 17 years. As I sit here writing this, tears are rising in my eyes. I wish I had more information for you. I wish I could tell you that I have a current phone number. I wish I could give you more concrete, current information. But I just don't have it.

Sincerely,
Grandma Carole

Harper laughed as she walked out of the theatre with her Dad. "You jumped so high," she chuckled.

"I did not, I don't know who you think you were looking at," he laughed as he walked beside her.

Harper laughed heartily as they stepped out into the cold evening. "Alright, alright, whatever you say," she chuckled. "At least you didn't dump your popcorn on the people in front of us like last time…."

Scott groaned. "I thought you were going to let that go?" he sighed as he clicked the unlock button on his key fob when they reached the car.

"You make it so easy to tease you about these things," she laughed. She threw herself into the car and went for the seatbelt before he even got inside.

"I just let you because you're so cute," Scott winked as he turned the car on, before he started the drive home.

"Dad, that may have worked when I was six, but I'm 18 now," she chuckled. "Cute is not exactly what a soon to be high school graduate wants to hear."

She turned her face to the road then, as the silence deafened in her ears. The car fell silent as Scott drove them home. "I forget how old you are sometimes," Scott uttered in the quiet of the car. "You got so big so fast Harp," he smiled.

"Are you going to cry now?" she chuckled, a slight tinge of uncomfortableness coming to her voice. Even she could hear it.

Scott scoffed. "Forgive me for getting sentimental as my only child throttles towards college. Which leads me to, am I allowed to ask about the essay? Or the registry for that matter?" he asked as he turned the corner that led to their subdivision.

"Dad," she groaned. "The essay? I have nothing. Same goes for the registry. Not a hit," she sighed to cover up the lie that she felt tumbling out with her words. They felt heavier with each passing second.

"Do you think you should…."

Harper put up her hand. "Okay. Okay, sorry I asked," Scott responded softly. Harper softened at his words. "It's just been a bit since we've spent time like this together. I feel like we haven't gotten a chance to talk…"

"You've been working a lot Dad," Harper sighed and immediately wanted to stuff the words back in her mouth. She didn't miss the flash of emotions across his face. She instantly felt bad. She knew he worked hard to provide for them, and she hoped her dreams of going to Yale didn't make things worse.

Talking to Carole had made her think of everything she truly had in life, a wonderful set of parents, a huge extended family and she had never wanted for anything in her life. She hadn't had to work a lot, only in the summertime so she could focus on her school work. She was lucky that way, in a way that some of her friends – Cora included, weren't. She knew she had it good. But at the same time, she didn't get to benefit from what her friends had. The knowledge of where she had come from. She set her features back and turned to look at her Dad.

"There's just been a lot going on at the office," Scott assured. She nodded as he said the words. "Hey, I have an idea…" he smiled as he stopped the vehicle, swung it into reverse and turned around.

"Where are we going?" she grinned. She had an inkling, but Harper wanted him to tell her. Or show her.

"You'll see," Scott winked as he propelled the car in the other direction.

Sunday, November 19th, 11:29am.

Grandma Carole,
I appreciate all the information you were able to give me. I know I gave you a lot of questions to answer, and I'm grateful for what you were able to tell me. It hurts a little, to read about how you haven't had contact with my birth father in so many years. Selfishly I wish you and him were…or are, like me and my Dad. My dad and I are close, and aside from my Mom and my school friend Cora, he's my best friend. We've always been close. I guess that's how it is for only children. Though I wouldn't know. All of my friends and cousins have siblings. I'm a lone wolf I guess.

Can I ask one more question? What does Finn stand for? Is it short for something? I've tossed it around in my head and all I can come up with is Finley. Or Finnley I guess. I guess that's more than one question, but I can't help myself. But you haven't given me a lot to go on, you know. You've just given me his first name. I know I've asked a lot of you, but anything you can tell me would be most helpful. I want to know everything, and if you haven't talked to him in 17 years…than I need to find him. Not just for me…but for you too.

Harper.

She had tried Finn Hummel in the registry, with no luck. She had tried the same combination in google, facebook and anywhere else she could think of. Nothing came back. No hits. She could only deduce one thing. He didn't have the same last name as Grandma Carole.

She was about to log off, head downstairs and see if her parents had made lunch yet, when the alert of another message beeped from the screen. She immediately leaned down and hovered over the mouse to click on the message. It was from Carole and only held two words.

Finn Hudson.