Chapter 10Harper felt all of her muscles tense as she waited for Facebook to load. She had tried to distract herself by taking a shower, but the hot water and smell of pink grapefruit body wash only momentarily took her thoughts away from the situation at hand. She bit her nails as the log in screen fully loaded and she almost ripped her nail at the quick as she stumbled to input her information.
It had been a rough two days, there was no doubt about that. Harper's stomach constantly felt tied up in knots, and the anxiety associated with the anticipation of Finn's response to her message felt like it as eating her alive. It consumed her thoughts, so much so that she had buried the app on her phone to limit her distractions – though the notifications still popped up from time to time. Every time she saw the little red dot she felt her hopes rise even the slightest bit – and every time it wasn't a message from Finn, her hopes dashed just a little further towards the gutter. Disappointment ravaged her every thought, distracting her from her school work and even causing her to strike out at volleyball practice just that morning. It was consuming her every thought, and as the page loaded in front of her she half-heartedly scrolled a bit before she dragged her eyes to the message section.
She tried not to get excited when the little red dot alerted her to the presence of two messages in her inbox. Her dejectedness was rewarded when she opened it up to find a message from her cousin, as well as one for a group project for English. Harper slumped back against the pillows of her bed as she quickly typed out a response to her cousin before she answered the message in the school group chat. But the message she sent Finn two days ago taunted her once she was back in the main message screen. She clicked on his name hastily and the same image she had been faced with for the last day or so.
Hello – Seen by Finn Hudson
Nothing had changed in the past two days and Harper was beginning to feel the weight of the words in front of her crushing her on the inside. She sat back on her chair and felt the weight of disappointment covering her. She felt foolish, thinking of how the disappointment was affecting her so strongly. It was one word; not like she had written him a novel or spewed all the questions she had that were just on the tip of her tongue. The word didn't have implications or connotations of what she was looking for, from him. But it was the fact that she had gone out on a limb with messaging him, hoping it was her birth father on the other end and she hadn't gotten it completely wrong.
But it also didn't change that he hadn't responded. Harper had never wrestled, ever, with the fact that she was adopted. Her parents had always been open since she was old enough to understand what it meant – but there were questions they didn't have the answer to. And for some of them, she hadn't ever expected them to know the answers. But that didn't mean they just went away. With every message she had received from Carole, her hope had ignited and her interest piqued. But the denial she felt right now, ached. It hurt to feel that maybe she had been too optimistic about this whole journey. The longer the moments ticked by, the more it seemed to Harper that maybe it was time to take off the rose-coloured glasses and admit that maybe this wasn't a good idea. She closed off the website, choosing instead to turn her focus to the homework she had to complete for the next day.
But the assignment failed to keep her attention for longer than a split second. Her mind kept dragging her away from the article she was reading that had to be summarized and critiqued for tomorrows history class. She couldn't focus on the words about World War 2 that she was trying to digest. She had been working at this project for a few days, and her focus just refused to stay on the topic at hand. She spun around on the chair for a moment, facing her bed which was littered with the rest of her school books – most all related to assignments that she had to complete. She gently rubbed her face with an intense focus on her eyes, trying to wake herself up a little bit to get through the mound of work she needed to complete. She had put off all her work for tonight, something that drove her type A, organized ways crazy. She was one for prioritizing her assignments and studying and had been one of the reasons she had been successful this far in her schooling. The calendar in front of her was littered with due dates for all of her school work and it was hard for her not to notice the submission date for her Yale essay was closing in at an alarming rate.
Harper tried desperately for another few moments to focus on her assignment, before she finally hit the save function on her computer and stood up to stretch. She was home alone – her parents had taken advantage of the afternoon to head out and get some shopping for Christmas done. She was thankful for their absence, as they had been their usual selves over the last few days – hovering, staying silent all the while asking all the questions at the same time with their eyes. They were worried, concerned and wanted to protect her. She understood and even more so appreciated it. But she needed to do this for her own self.
She made her way out of her bedroom, the silence in the room was deafening and for once she enjoyed it. Even Samson seemed to realize she wanted to be alone and only looked up from his perch in the living room once she had made her way down the stairs. Her stomach rumbled, and as she walked she remembered her mother mentioning that she had left her some chicken salad she had made earlier. She hadn't realized how much time had past as she sat upstairs staring at the computer. She grabbed her salad and a bottle of water before she moved over to the island and sat down on a stool to start eating. Samson traipsed into the kitchen at that moment and Harper smiled as the old puppy came to stand beside her. He nudged the side of her thigh when he caught wind of her food.
"Sorry pup, too hungry," she whispered as she shoveled another forkful of the salad into her mouth. She swallowed to take a sip of the water she had grabbed. "Fine," she chuckled before she picked up a piece of chicken and tossed it to the dog.
Finn paced. He paced back and forth as he stood in his living room, staring at the phone in his hand. He kept staring at the phone, the Facebook app on his phone open to the page of the young girl who had sent him the simple message.
Hello.
The word bounced around in his head, floated around in front of his eyes. Simultaneously he couldn't take his eyes off the message and wanted to close and delete the app. He flipped out of the messages part of the app and drew himself back to her profile. He could only see so much, and found himself staring at the picture that she had chosen – and he couldn't help but try to find himself in her features. He felt himself pulled in; the smile on her face made a smile come to his own– and he couldn't help but notice the dimple in her cheek that he knew if he looked in the mirror would be the mirror of his own. She had deep brown eyes that were eerily familiar, an image he had long buried in the depths of his memories.
Quickly he closed down the app, and tossed his phone on the couch with such force that it bounced back on the pillows. He had been battling all day as he flipped back and forth between apps and watching television. Sunday was the only day he closed his shop down so he could have a day to decompress. But he still managed some days to go in and complete paperwork, tidy up – anything to keep himself busy.
Only today he had stayed home.
He had been struggling with what to do about the message, what to respond with from the moment he had seen it. He made his way back into the kitchen and stared at the empties that littered the counter around his sink. He wasn't proud of himself, but the amber liquid that was continued in the bottles in front of him was the only way he had been able to deal with the emotions he was feeling inside. It was the only way to bury them deep, even if his subconscious kept driving him back to looking at the message and he profile. Instead of picking up the empties to put them out for recycling tomorrow, Finn stalked over to the refrigerator and swung open the door. He reached into the nearly empty fridge, another chore he had neglected today in favor of the wallowing in deliberation, and grabbed another beer. He popped the lid off the glass bottle and tossed it in the sink before he could decide if he had reached his limit or not.
It was nearing midnight when Harper finally completed all her work. She sighed tiredly as she rubbed her eyes as she finally packed everything away to bring to school tomorrow. She still had to shower and get through her nightly routine and she was very tempted to just skip it and go to bed. The thought of having to blow drying her long wavy brown hair caused her to grimace but the stiffness in her joints from sitting all day and the falls she had taken in her volleyball game earlier gave her pause and she decided to shower anyway and deal with the hair repercussions in the morning. The warm water she was sure would do wonders and help her sleep, at least that's what she hoped. She would be quick, because she was sure her parents who had long retreated to their bedroom for the night would hear the squeaking of the pipes and be concerned about why she was showering so late.
She let the warm water do its trick, and by the time she got back to her bedroom with her hair piled high in a topknot she was more than ready for bed. She slinked across the bedroom from her bathroom to her bed and slipped beneath the comfortable down comforter her Mom had bought for her a few weeks ago. She sighed deeply as she sunk into the fabrics, glad to finally be resting in the safe cocoon of her bed and putting the day firmly behind her. She hoped that school would provide her with the distraction she would need to not think about the limb she had gone out on.
The moment she turned out her bedside light, Samson came trotting in to take up his position in her bed as he did every night. Harper moved around to get comfortable as the bigger pup got on the bed and took up the space she had left him by turning onto her side to face her night stand. She sighed deeply when she was finally in position and tried to close her eyes to fall asleep. As she laid there, the questions and anxieties she had about the message she had left for Finn seemed to explode to the forefront now that she didn't have school work or even the hot water of her shower to distract her. She grunted in frustration as she rubbed her eyes, and groaned when she realized she had just pushed her facial moisturizer into her eyes and in no time they started to water. Harper deeply sighed as she tried to flip over onto her back to wipe her eyes more freely. Samson whined a bit. She envied the dogs ability to fall asleep so quickly. "Sorry pup," she mumbled tiredly. She leaned over for her tissues that she kept on her bedside table and in the darkness of the room she haphazardly knocked her phone to the floor.
"Crap," she sighed. Now she had to get out of bed to grab it. She slid out from underneath the covers and grabbed her phone, and just as she did so the screen lit up from her pressing the home button.
Finn Hudson sent you a message.
Her heart thundered in her ears and she sat down on the edge of her mattress. She looked to her bedroom door and thought briefly about going to get her parents, but dropped the idea as quickly as it came upon her. Harper continued to stare down at the phone, her hands shaking as she contemplated whether to open the message now or wait for morning. Her mind was tired from homework, but the weight of what if pressed down on her mind, clouding her better judgement as she clicked the alert. One shaky breath after another left her mouth rapidly, matching the beat of her heart that was rapidly increasing as she waited for his words to fill the screen.
Hi.
That was it. One word. She felt all of her emotions skid to a halt, skittering into the proverbial wall she had set up for herself against disappointment as she read his one syllable return. Was that it? All he could muster? She didn't know what she had been expecting, there was no book on his – no road map of how to reconnect with your birth parents. Well, there was…but they all prefaced their articles and chapters that it is all based on the individual and not every meet up is the exact same. But still, she had waited two days for hi? The crushing wave of disappointment filled her as she stared at the screen. Her exhaustion over came her and she attempted to put the phone back down on her bedside table, all at once deciding maybe she should let him linger with the same feelings she had had the past two days being left on 'seen'. The three dots signalling that he was typing a message popped up and she yanked the phone with a vengeance and threw herself back on her bed to wait, not caring about the fact that the adapter had come out of the wall.
A million thoughts skipped through her mind. What if he was about to tell her to leave him alone? What if he was about to tell her there was no way he was her birth father? Every thought flipped like someone was fanning the edges of a book, every what if changing as the seconds clipped by at warp speed.
Harper waited with baited breath for his response to come through. Every time she felt her eyes drifting closed, she forced them open in order not to miss whatever message he was constructing on the other end. She could only pray it was more than the greeting she received moments ago.
When the message didn't come and the three telling dots disappeared without a message, Harper's patience wore thin.
That's all you're going to say? She typed furiously on the keyboard of her phone. She stumbled over her words and had to backtrack a few times to get her question out correctly. Just hi? Do you realize how hard that was for me, to send that message to you? – H. Harper pressed send before she could add anything else. She tossed the phone beside her and Samson whined when it skidded to a halt on his tail.
Almost immediately and before the screen could go dark, the dots reappeared.
I'm sorry. The message lit up her screen and she waited with baited breath once the dots reappeared.
I didn't mean to disappoint you. My name is Finn Hudson and I'm 39 years old. I'm a mechanic in Cottage Grove, Oregon. I doubt you've ever heard of it – not many people have, we're kind of small. I've lived here for 18 years. It's peaceful, and Huck likes when we go for walks and hikes. He's my pup. He's pretty old, but still runs like when I first got him. He was the third biggest purchase I ever made in my entire life. I own the garage I work in, I like it a lot cause I get to make my own hours. Though I work most days, all day its nice to be done when I want to be done. I've always liked working with my hands, working on a project that has a beginning, middle and end.
Harper chuckled softly as she read over his message.
"He rambles," she thought quietly. "just like I do when I'm nervous."
Ramble much? LOL. – Harper.
I'm sorry. It's kind of instinct. All through high school my friends used to say I had verbal diarrhea. It gets bad when I'm nervous. And it pains me to admit that this – makes me nervous.
You found me, though – first. Someone must have told you my name. I've always hoped you would find me, in one way or another.
I never knew yours. Your parents picked a really pretty name for you. You look like a Harper. It suits you. – Finn
Harper let a long breath escape her as she read his message.
Thank you. I like it. I used to wish I had a regular name when I was younger but after 18 years you get used to it.
Finn, you're my birth father, right?
Harper waited with baited breath for his response, but as she watched the three dots dance on Finn's side of the screen, her eyes grew heavy with sleep the longer she waited. She didn't know why she asked him bluntly like that. She knew he was, the name matched the one Carole gave her. She wanted to read it, she wanted to hear him say it. She had come this far to be turned down or let down.
Yes. Finn wrote. At least, I think so. You just had a birthday, right? November 10th?
Her heart felt like it was going to beat out of her chest and her hands started to sweat profusely around the iPhone in her hands.
Yes. She typed, but silently mouthed the words she was typing as she went. My 18th. That's how I was able to start searching for you.
Finn sat back against the couch as he stared at the screen. His head started to spin as he read the words back, his heart thumping against his chest.
I've been looking for you, because I've wondered for a long time now where I came from. I know who raised me; my parents have been good to me. I've had the best kind of life, they've raised me with morals and a good head on my shoulders. I play volleyball and have a part time job during the summer months. I've been playing the guitar for quite a few years and I'm pretty good. I can't dance to save my life, but I can carry a little bit of tune. No show tunes though, those are a bit out of my range. I'm more an Alanis/Kelly Clarkson kind of mix.
But I have so many questions too. I know everything about my parents, Scott and Diane. I know what makes them tick, what makes them the people that I have loved all of my life. But I know nothing about my past. I don't know where I get my looks from, I don't know anything about who I am down in my genes.
Can you answer them for me?
The weight of the words Harper ended her message with hit Finn heavily. He put the phone down beside him and rubbed his face, the exhaustion that suddenly crushed down on him even from the lack of activity felt more extreme as his emotions scaled higher. He struggled against the weight of what the she was asking him to do.
I don't mean right now. Harper felt like she had to clarify the last statement immediately. She had pushed send before she had been ready with the question, and even before she had fully committed to what she was asking. She was being blunt and to the point, and she didn't recognize herself in the haze of the late hour. I just – I have a lot of things I want to know. She waited and could almost hear the crickets she imagined were playing.
I'm sure you have a lot of questions. He affirmed. He paused his typing for a moment as he tried to determine how to succinctly put what he was trying to say. And I can't say that I would have the answers to all of them, but what I do know I can share with you, absolutely. But shouldn't you be sleeping? He added the last bit with a smile on his face.
Haha. Harper quickly wrote back. I'm 18, remember? She made sure to add a wink emoticon at the end to show she was laughing, just as she hoped he was as well.
Trust me. Finn answered back quickly. I remember.