"No shit," I say, gesturing at his sandwich.
He looks down, then over at mine, and grins. "Great minds think alike, I guess."
"Or we're both just basic as hell when it comes to food."
"There's nothing wrong with a good bologna sandwich. My mom used to make them for me when I was a kid, and I just never grew out of it."
"Same here." I take another bite. "People always want to complicate things. Add fancy condiments, different types of bread. But sometimes simple hits the fucking spot."
"Exactly." Lee takes a bite of his own sandwich. "My girlfriend thinks I'm crazy. She's always trying to get me to try turkey or roast beef or some shit. But I like what I like. Bologna and white bread with some mayo slaps."
We eat in companionable silence for a few minutes. It's nice, just sitting here with someone who understands the appeal of a simple lunch. No judgment, no pretension. Just two guys eating bologna sandwiches behind a garage.
"Thanks for the opportunity to help with the Logan situation," Lee says after a while. "I know I'm just a Prospect, but it felt good to actually contribute something important."
"You did more than contribute. You gave us exactly what we needed." I set down my sandwich. "You've got good instincts, Lee. Keep that up, and you'll be patched in before you know it."
His face lights up. "You mean that?"
"I don't say shit I don't mean."
"Thanks, Dime. That means a lot coming from you."
We finish our sandwiches, and Lee starts to tell me about his girlfriend, about how they're saving up to get a place together. I listen, letting him talk, and I think about how this is what normal looks like. Sitting outside on a nice day, eating lunch, talking about life.
It's a far cry from the life I've been living for the last few years. The undercover work, the constant vigilance, the lying. But sitting here with Lee, I can almost imagine what it would be like to just be Dime. Not Grant Swain the undercover cop, but just Dime. A guy who works at a garage, loves a teacher, and eats bologna sandwiches for lunch.
"You ever think about what comes next?" Lee asks, breaking into my thoughts.
"What do you mean?"
"After all this. After we deal with the Rebels and get things back to normal. You ever think about what you want your life to look like?"
I think about Allison in my bed this morning, Whiskers curled up between us. I think about last night on the couch, watching bad TV and feeling content. I think about a future where I don't have to lie anymore, where I can just be with the woman I love without secrets between us.
"Yeah," I say. "I think about it all the time."
"And?"
"And I want simple. A good woman, a good life, maybe a cat or two." I grin. "And bologna sandwiches for lunch."
Lee laughs. "Sounds perfect to me."
We head back inside after lunch, and I spend the rest of the afternoon working on brake jobs. The repetitive nature of the work keeps my mind occupied, and before I know it, it's time to head out and pick up Allison.
As I drive back toward the school, my phone buzzes.
Chief Harrison: All set for tonight. Stay visible.
I text back a simple thumbs up and keep driving. Tonight everything changes. Tonight we find out if all this work, all these lies, all this risk has been worth it.
But right now, all I care about is picking up my woman and making sure she's okay.
Everything else can wait.
Thirteen
Allison
