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New Orleans had so much to offer: music, food, culture, history, and more, yet Nancy Drew found herself in the rain in an old cemetery solving someone's mystery, once again. Not that she minded of course. Solving mysteries gave her purpose. She had a hard time being away from a mystery; it gave her an incurable itch.
Nancy hummed to herself as her heels clicked across the cold wet pavement. She'd been at this graveyard puzzle for well over an hour and she was getting tired of making constant trips back and forth. While Bruno Bolet's jokes were funny at first, but now his puns were grating on her nerves. All this work for a stupid glass eye.
The rain was adding to her irritability. With every trip to the house and back, she was getting more and more soaked. She did bring an umbrella with her to the house, but it unfortunately didn’t make it out of the cab that she took over. She hoped it was having a good time touring New Orleans without her. Now the detective was getting colder by the minute. Her black trench coat was helping, but her stocking covered legs were freezing under her black dress. She huffed again before coming to a sudden halt outside of a large stone building.
Kneeling at the foot of the Bolet crypt was none other than Henry Bolet himself. He was hysterically in tears, shivering from the rain and his sobs. His white shirt was doing little to keep him warm. Nancy was going to turn and walk away until a misstep in her heels led her to slipping on an uneven rock. The sound of her shoes scraping against the pavement caught Henry's attention and he turned to see Nancy's silhouette, frozen and unsure of what to do.
"Nancy?"
"Hi," she replied sheepishly. She was embarrassed from being caught. She walked calmly over to where Henry knelt, unsure as to where things were going. Nancy sat on the marble steps in front of him, waiting for him to say something, anything. "Are you alright?" As soon as the words left her mouth, she wanted to hit herself. Stupid Drew. Of course he's not okay.
There was something about Henry Bolet that had her mind and maybe even her heart reeling. Perhaps it was the mystery that hid in his eyes every time they talked. He was like a walking puzzle- a very cute walking puzzle. "Do you want to talk?" Nancy asked hesitantly. Henry finally looked up at her hesitantly. In the background, the storm was growing. What started out as a heavy rain shower was now a full-fledged thunderstorm. Lightning occasionally illuminated their faces in the dark of the evening. She could see the glimmer of his tears mixed with the drops of rain across his cheeks. She slid over to the side a bit. "We don’t have to talk, but you could sit up here if you'd like. It's a little dryer," Nancy chuckled dryly. Henry looked at the spot beside Nancy before standing silently and plopping down beside her.
A few moments passed without a word between them. Somewhere in those moments, Henry's hand found Nancy's. She didn’t refuse it; if anything, she welcomed it. His palm was cold against hers, so she made it her personal mission to warm him up. Nancy felt a shiver go down her spine, and she was almost positive it wasn’t from the cold. Henry knows about Ned. He wouldn’t try anything. The detective was definitely more worried about her own self-control than Henry's.
Nancy shoved her free hand into her trench coat pocket for warmth. Her fingers danced across something cold and metallic. She recognized it as the key to the Bolet crypt. She wasn’t sure how long it had been missing, but she assumed it was long enough for Henry to notice its absence. "Hey, I came across the key to your family crypt. Do you want to go inside away from the rain? It's getting pretty bad out here." Nancy pulled the key from her pocket and showed it to Henry. He seemed surprised to see it.
"That key has been missing for months. Where did you manage to find it?"
"It's a bit of a long story," Nancy said with a light chuckle. She stood and unlocked the metal gates. She pulled the gate open and stepped inside. She left the gate ajar as an open invitation for Henry. He followed her hesitantly inside.
"I haven’t been inside here for a long time. It's been over ten years and it's still hard for me to read their names on the wall," he said as he traced a gravestone in the corner. Nancy sat against the wall opposite of him and watched him. He seemed to be lost in another place, another time. Nancy understood. She got that way when she visited her mother's grave sometimes.
"Will you tell me about them?"
"Who?" Henry asked as he turned around to face her.
"Your parents. What were they like?" Henry thought for a moment as he composed an answer for her.
"My mother, Marianne, was an angel. The world didn’t deserve her. She was always smiling, always laughing, and she always had a good joke to tell. She was a talented cook and extremely supportive. My dad, Claude, was a hard worker, but he always made time for family. He used to play cards with my mom and I, every Thursday night. He loved my mother more than anything," Henry carried on. He sat beside Nancy and looked up at their tombs. "It rained the night they died. It was one of the worst storms in years." Nancy took his hand as Henry spun his tale. She smiled lightly in support before he carried on.
"I don’t remember much from that night. I've blocked out a lot of it. I remember the police officers at the door, talking to the babysitter that I'd been left with. After the police told me they were gone, I couldn’t hear another word. Everything felt fuzzy and I got extremely sick. I had to pack up my belongings that night and I was off to distant Uncle Bruno's house. This woman drove me out here. I think she was from social services, but I can't remember.
"I wasn’t allowed to take much with me due to the lack of storage space. Everything I once had is gone. Things have fallen apart, disappeared, been thrown out… it's strange. It's like I'm not even the same person anymore."
"Henry, I'm so sorry. That’s painful to go through as a child. Losing one parent is hard enough, believe me, but losing two in one night? No wonder you don’t remember much," she comforted.
"You know what I miss the most? This is going to sound ridiculous, but human contact. I know I have Summer, but you heard her on the phone. I'm sure you know that she's not the overly affectionate type. But she's all I have, and if I lose her I'll be on my own again."
"No you won't. Not this time. You'll have me," Nancy said and squeezed his hand. She released his grasp and stood. Henry looked at her in confusion before she shrugged off her soaking trench coat and sat down between his outstretched legs. She slid her back against his chest as he hesitantly left his arms on his legs.
"Nancy, are you sure you're okay with this?"
"Positive," she replied with a smile. "Besides, it's freezing otherwise." Henry nodded and placed his arms loosely around her waist. His chin rested on top of her head. "I lost my mom in a car crash, too."
"You don’t have to tell me if you'd rather not," Henry said. Nancy shook her head and kept going.
"She was making dinner that night when she realized she'd forgotten something at the store. It was pouring down rain and we told her not to go, but she insisted. She was always stubborn like that," Nancy chuckled. "She lost control and her car spun out and into the lake. Every detail from that night is engraved in my brain and I'll never forget it. As terrible as it sounds, I almost envy you. I wish I could forget all of the pain I felt that night and the look of terror and sorrow on my dad's face. It was awful."
"I'm proud of you for being strong enough to keep those memories. I couldn’t. I'm sorry you had to experience that." There was a pause of silence. "You hate the storm, too, then."
"Yes," she replied quietly. "I always hate the storm."
The two of them sat in comfortable silence after that. Henry was holding tighter to Nancy with every passing moment. He kept telling himself that the feelings he had for her were nothing beyond friendship and the bonding over similar trauma, but something in him knew it was bigger than that. Sure, he had Summer, and he loved her- at least, he thought he did, he knew she didn’t care for him nearly as much as he cared for her. Their relationship was sexually intimate, but it felt emotionless for Henry.
Everything he'd ever had with Summer all felt wrong the moment Nancy sat down in his lap. Like a puzzle piece, she fit perfectly against him, snuggly and comfortably. Despite her claims that she was cold, her body warmed his chest. No words were needed between them as they exchanged comfort and sorrow for their lost parents. They understood one another and what they were feeling was felt together. Henry had never felt so in sync with someone. Nancy could say the same. Henry leaned down and his breath tickled Nancy's ear. "Thank you," he whispered. Nancy's mouth formed an 'o'. His voice was warm and silky against her skin, and she longed for the sensation again.
Nancy closed her eyes and breathed in the scents around her. Combined with the cold rain sneaking in from outside, she could smell the lightest tones of Henry's aftershave mixed with the cold marble fixtures and her own soft perfume. It was comforting, so comforting that she was nearing sleep. Henry's hands on her bare arms brought her back. "Nancy, you're freezing," he snapped with concern. She hadn’t heard that much emotion in his voice since he defended her when Renée tried to make her drink funny concoctions. "We should get you back to the house before you get sick," Henry carried on. Nancy noticed the hint of a smile on his face. She liked the look on him.
The pair walked back to the house hand in hand, just content to have found someone who could emotionally understand the other. Nancy had draped her sopping coat over their heads in an attempt to stay dry, but it wasn’t really working. Neither of them really seemed to mind.
That night, Nancy lied awake in bed in the spare room, unable to shake away the events of the last few hours. She was dressed warmly now in an extra pair of Henry's sweats and one of his t-shirts. She noted that the clothing smelt like him, which brought her a strange sense of comfort. Her mind bounced around between her growing affections for Henry and the storm that raged on outside. After an hour of tossing and turning, she was finally ready to give up.
Nancy threw the covers from herself and stood. Her bare feet pitter-pattered down the stairs lightly towards the library in hopes of a good book to lull her to sleep. As she passed by the parlor, she noticed that Henry wasn’t on the couch like he said he'd be. Nancy pushed the doors of the library open to find him sitting on the sofa, a book in his lap and a candle on the table. He looked mildly surprised to see her. "Everything okay?"
"I couldn’t sleep," Nancy replied. "I was hoping I might find a book in here to ease my mind." She carefully eyed his look now. He was also dressed in sweats and a black t-shirt that showed off his tattoo. His hair was tussled from the rain and he was missing his usual eyeliner. Nancy couldn’t deny that he looked incredibly sexy like that.
"I thought the same thing," Henry said. "Not to mention it's far too cold to sleep with the power still out."
"I agree. Even with the spare blankets you gave me, it's still cold." The two sat in silence for a beat.
"Nancy, you can say no and I won't take it offensively, but would you maybe want to just bunk together? We might be a little warmer and at least we sort of know what's going on in the other person's head," he suggested hesitantly. Nancy was a little taken back, but her heart was thumping madly out of her chest. Her self-control was gone and there was no way she was turning down a bed with him.
"Sure, let's try it."
"If anything, I'll come back down to the couch after you fall asleep," he continued, trying to make Nancy feel more comfortable about sharing a bed with her boyfriend's friend.
"That's not necessary. You should be able to get some good sleep, too," she replied. Henry blew out the candle and headed upstairs with Nancy. They stepped into the spare room together and Henry locked the door behind him. He definitely didn’t want Renée finding them together. Just the thought of her nagging on him made his head hurt.
The bed in the spare room was on the small side. It was just big enough for two people, but only for two people who didn’t want any personal space. Nancy lied down and held the covers up for him. Henry climbed in beside her and she threw the blankets over him. They snuggled into the bed as Henry draped an arm over Nancy's waist. "Is this okay?"
"Definitely. It's so much warmer already," she sighed in appreciation. She placed her hands on his chest and closed her eyes. "Thank you."
"I should be thanking you. This is much comfier than the couch," he joked. Nancy laughed.
"Goodnight, Henry."
"Goodnight, Nancy."
Nancy turned to Henry, who was leaning on the wall next to the front door. Her bag was in her hand, but she wanted with all her heart to drop it on the floor and never need to pick it up again. "Are you sure you don’t want to come sightseeing with us?"
"That’s okay. I have a lot to work out here at home. But thank you," Henry replied. "Promise you won't forget me?" he asked with a hint of a grin. Nancy smiled.
"I couldn’t if I tried," she replied. He finally broke into the smile she'd been waiting to see, and it was everything she hoped for. He looked so genuinely happy, more so than she'd seen in the last twenty-four hours. Nancy dropped her bag and threw her arms around his neck. Henry was a bit surprised, but returned the close hug nonetheless. She took a step back and stepped up onto her tiptoes. She gently kissed Henry on the cheek, just below his scar.
Nancy gave him one last smile before picking her bag back up and walking out the door to her cab. Henry let out a sigh- for once, not out of sadness, but out of pure blissful enjoyment. He was definitely going to miss her. He leaned on the doorframe and watched Nancy climb into her cab. She waved at him and he returned the favor.
Even from her seat in the cab, she could read the ten-digit sequence of numbers she'd written on his hand moments ago as he waved to her with a smile.