I want to see more of this place.
And I want to get away from my family for the day.
And ever since I boarded the ship, I’ve been denied any opportunity to do anything or go anywhere. It may be a vacation, but there is no rest for me. Not if I finally want a seat in the Seattle Symphony.
“You have your audition coming up,” my father has told me every time I suggest something other than practice, practice, practice.
But today, as I look at the itinerary, I see a fishing excursion and it’s suddenly the very thing I have to do. Wide open waters, wind in my hair--it sounds like freedom.
I’ve never been fishing. I’ve never even thought about fishing. But here I was in Alaska, in a beautiful city, a place I may never return. And for the price of $259 I could go on a four-hour fishing expedition.
Without my family.
However, when I mention this opportunity at breakfast my parents look at me as if I were a fool.
“That’s not possible,” my father says. “You have to practice today.”
“Exactly. Don’t be ridiculous, Alice,” Mom adds. I immediately feel my shoulders tighten and heat rise to my cheeks.
This is why I need to get away for a day. They are suffocating me.
Before I can even protest, my sister Anna pipes in, “Besides, we’re going to a glass-blowing workshop today. Not fishing.”
“I didn’t say I was going with you. I’m going by myself,” I say.
My parents exchange a look that says no way, and I know they’re as invested in my music as I am--probably more so--but I’ve had enough.
I set down my napkin and tell them that I’ll see them this evening.
My mother stands up from the table. “Sit back down, Alice. Who do you think you are, ordering us around like that?”
“Mother,” I say coolly, having no interest in fighting. “I’m letting you know that today, I will not be following the practice schedule. Today I want to take a break. All this hovering is stressing me out, and I don’t need that right now. I need a day off or my audition in two weeks will end just like the last two. I won’t get a spot in the symphony.”
My parents stare at me in shock. Apparently, I’ve never spoken up like this before.
And why? Why haven’t I?
I love playing the cello. I want this dream as badly as they do. But instead of becoming better... the older I get, the less spectacular my performances have become.
“Playing the cello professionally might not happen. Did you ever think about that?” I ask, grabbing my purse and jacket from the breakfast table. “And then what?”
“Practicing is the only way you’ll get what you want.” My father’s eyes narrow. “This is your entire life. We only push you because you’ve asked us to.”
“The pressure is getting to me. I feel like I can’t breathe.”
Truth is, I’m scared I am going to fail this next audition too. Eventually, I’m going to have to let this dream die.
And when that happens, the sad truth is... I’ll have nothing.
I’ve spent my life so focused, so reliant on my mom and dad, that without the cello, I’ve got nothing going for me.
I need to step away from everything for a day and think about what I want.
Think about who I want to be.
Because cello or not, it doesn’t feel like enough anymore.
Taking a deep breath, I know I need to get away from all this noise and clear my head.
“I’m going on a fishing excursion today. Alone.”
Anna’s fiancé Donavan smirks at what he probably considers a tantrum.
“Alice, you don’t know the first thing about fishing,” Donavan states.
Wow. Real rocket scientist that one.
“And Peter is a good guy,” he adds. “You don’t even give him a chance.”
My eyes widen. I have so given Peter plenty of chances. The fact that he ruins them every time he opens mouth isn’t my problem.
Speaking each syllable as clearly as possible, “I am not interested in Peter.”
I don’t wait for a reply. I just walk out of the breakfast hall and sign up for the excursion.
Apparently, the boat taking guests to the fishing marina has already left, but they get me a water taxi, telling me I still might make it in time.
I don’t. The boat pulled out fifteen minutes before I arrived at the marina. My hair is windswept from the taxi ride, the salt air filling my lungs and giving me the perspective I need. It can be so easy to get stuck in my own little bubble--but here in this wide open space--I’m reminded that the world is so big. So beautiful.
So full of possibility.
It’s okay that the trip already left. Standing on this dock in the middle of nowhere, I realize I don’t need an excursion, not really. None of this is about fishing--it’s about getting a breath of fresh air.