A twentysomething man rubs a second twentysomething man’s back as they stand in the driveway of a home. A young woman, wearing a white evening gown runs with a young man to the entrance. A clerk stands at his desk, his hands folded in front of his hips.
A third young man runs down the hallway. The staff sit on chairs next to the rooms. Two 8-year-old twin girls sit next to each other on a bed. Bonnie Raitt cross her hands underneath her chin while her boyfriend sleeps by her. The young woman, wearing a white evening gown, covers her ears as the young man yells at her. Raitt rests her hand on his as she lies next to him. She rolls over to her side.
A sixtysomething man sits at the kitchen table with Raitt and writes a letter. Her boyfriend looks out the balcony and adjusts his collar. He slides his hands across the glass door and lands on the floor. A third young man sits on a chair on the porch while a 7-year-old girl blows bubbles. Raitt sits on top of one of her suitcases. In the morning, her boyfriend walks to the mountain and watches the sunrise. He writes in his notebook as she sits in the corner. She smiles as he walks to her and puts his forehead on hers. He sits on the floor with his head on her lap.
Bonnie Raitt invites her son and his boyfriend into her home. Her son asks about her boyfriend. She says he’s in his room, writing. Her son says he’ll get him. Her son knocks on the door. Her boyfriend puts down his pen and says it’s great to see him. Raitt smiles to herself. Her boyfriend treated her son as he was his own. Raitt gestures for him to come into the kitchen and they’ll have some coffee. Her boyfriend says he needed a break anyhow.
She thinks of her mom cowering in the corner, shutting out the world as her dad continued to shame her. It had been after their wedding she had seen the violence within him. However, she couldn’t leave at first. Raitt sat with her sister in her room and turned on the television to drown out their parents’ fighting.
Her boyfriend asks her if she’d like some tea. She shakes her head, “no.” He pours some tea in the cup and says he thinks of his child and who he would’ve grown up to be. She puts her hand on his leg. He didn’t talk about his child much. Sometimes he’d bring up a memory and then just be quiet for about a week. His mother had filled her in the details and it took her some time to process it herself. It had been a tragedy. He rests her head on his shoulder. She strokes his hand.
Director: N/A Year: 1992