I go to a street corner to meet Derek and friends. We're going to a potluck or the park or something. He wheels up, and I hear a narrative voice saying he paid $160 to help his friends get food ready and maybe they won't show up. I feel bad for him, going to all that trouble for possibly nothing. It doesn't seem to bother him. He wheels up and we greet each other happily. I am holding a sweet baby and cuddling her. Now we're going to go on and go to the park and continue, friends or no friends. I am walking and become aware that this is a dream, because I don't ordinarily walk. Realizing this, I decide then that he can walk too and he is now walking. I see his tennis shoes all stiff like, but then he is walking. We are entwined, my arm around him and his arm around me. It is close and intimate and warm. Then, he's back in his wheelchair and invites me into his lap. I and the baby curl into his lap and we laugh and hug. Now we're at the table and I feed him "his food" and he feeds me "my food," one forkful. He only eats half of it and I pause, thinking about possible germs, and then shrug and finish off the bite.