Cherry Wine (2)
Brentwood Deer Ridge Country Club.
The place Chloe had invited me to wasn't some makeshift living quarters on a farm, but the Deer Ridge Country Club, a name as long as the property was grand. In this context, a "country club" referred to a social hub at the heart of an upscale residential complex, equipped with golf courses, tennis courts, swimming pools, restaurants, and event spaces.
Just hearing the name of the neighborhood told me exactly how wealthy Chloe’s family was. It finally made sense why Elena—who used to strut around so arrogantly because of her own sprawling Silveroak vineyard—couldn't even squeak a word in when Chloe snapped at her. It wasn't just about Chloe's beauty; it was about the sheer weight of her background.
As the pickup truck I was driving entered the residential complex and slowed down, a sleek, impeccably manicured golf course fairway unfolded before my eyes, dazzling in the light. It was a completely different world from the dusty roads of the cherry orchards. The grass looked like a painting, and every house boasted massive marble pillars and gardens that seemed designed to show off.
It was late afternoon, with the sun on the verge of setting, and the landscape of the mansions bathed in the glow of the sunset looked like a scene from a painting.
"The atmosphere in this neighborhood is..."
Even before I regressed, I hadn't visited many places this wealthy. Back then, I was just a salaryman, rent near New York was expensive, and once I fell into the world of agriculture, I had been too busy burying myself in my studies.
I had met wealthy people occasionally during my time as an accountant, but since I worked in New York, I mostly saw high-end apartments. Being invited to a mansion in a luxury residential complex like this was a rare experience, even counting my previous life.
As I arrived and stepped out of the truck, the door opened as if they had been waiting, and Chloe walked out. She was wearing a black dress that hit just above her knees, and she was undeniably pretty.
"You're here?"
"...Are you going to an awards ceremony after dinner or something?"
"......Shut up."
"I was just wondering..."
"Forget it. Anyway, you found the place alright?"
"I followed the map. Nice house. Do you live here?"
"I have this place, and another one in Crocket..."
She didn't even just have one house.
"You really are a... blessed friend."
"I suppose so. Let's go in."
As I opened the door and stepped inside, Chloe’s mother greeted me with a bright smile.
"So you must be Brian!"
"Yes, hello."
As I bowed slightly in the Korean style, Chloe’s mother smiled even wider and ushered me inside.
"I'm still cooking, so it's not quite ready yet. Why don't you go to her room and chat for about 20 minutes before coming back down?"
What on earth did she think we had to talk about in her daughter's room for 20 minutes?
"Hmph!"
Brandon, Chloe’s burly older brother who had been sitting in the living room, snorted with his arms crossed and stomped off. Then, a man who appeared to be her father approached and held out his hand. His palms were rough with calluses, but his grip was firm and warm.
"Call me Frederick. I hear you've been teaching Chloe about farming. Thanks to you, my daughter seems to have grown quite a bit. I appreciate it."
"It's nothing. I just shared what I knew."
"As my wife said, go and hang out with my daughter. Of course, if you try anything excessive..."
What on earth is this guy thinking?
"There will ab‧so‧lutely be no such thing. Never. Chloe and I are just friends."
I emphasized "never" twice, leaving no room for doubt. Frederick wore a strange expression for a moment before turning away.
"Follow me."
Chloe’s room was on the second floor, and like many girls' rooms, it was incredibly pink. It felt strangely unnatural against the black dress she was wearing, yet in a way, it somehow suited her.
She flopped onto her bed and gestured toward her desk chair with her chin. As I sat down, Chloe crossed her arms and spoke.
"You're the first male friend I've brought home who isn't a girl, so my parents are reacting a bit excessively. Don't pay it any mind."
"It's fine. I don't mind. They seem like good people."
At my words that I didn't mind, Chloe’s lips twitched as she crossed her legs and tapped her foot.
"They are good people. I've never even been scolded much while growing up."
"Is that why you're so..."
"Hmm?"
"Nothing. But what about your brother? Since he lost to you, isn't the cherry orchard completely out of his reach now?"
"Like I said before, even if I won, Dad said he'd give him another farm. My brother will be fine. Besides cherries, we have tomato and olive farms, too."
The farming tycoon I aspired to be was right here.
"That's impressive, isn't it?"
"Well, even so, I'm the one who won. Even if you add those two farms together, they aren't as big as the cherry orchard."
If her brother Brandon could see Chloe shrugging her shoulders and boasting like this, he would surely have grabbed her by the hair in annoyance.
"Anyway, thank you. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have been able to beat my brother."
"...Well, I see."
"You probably think I'm thanking you because I'm happy I got the cherry orchard... but actually, that's not entirely wrong. I like pretty and sophisticated things. Money is essential to maintain that lifestyle, and I thought the farm my dad built would be a good asset."
"It is a good asset, indeed."
"It might be a little different for you. I... thought of it like real estate. A place where you pay laborers on a large plot of land and the cherries just grow on their own. But when Dad gave me that mission, the world I imagined shattered. That was the moment I truly realized that cherries don't just grow by themselves."
"Hmm..."
"It was a shock to catch the bugs I hate so much and deal with the aphids myself. At first, the shock was just about catching the bugs, but later, it was shocking to see those bugs being eaten and the sick trees recovering. I think Dad is grateful for that, too. More than just the farming knowledge you shared."
"You're a person capable of more normal conversations than I thought."
"...How exactly have you been seeing me? Did you think I was just a blonde, big-breasted idiot?"
My gaze dropping downward for a split second before snapping back up was something I couldn't help.
"...I never said anything like that."
"......"
Afterward, we hurriedly changed the subject and chatted about this and that to pass the time, and about 20 minutes later, we went down to the kitchen.
As soon as we went down, the rich aroma of food filled the air. On the long table placed in one corner of the living room, there was roast chicken, grilled vegetables, cherries and tomatoes marinated in olive oil, and a neatly arranged cheese platter.
Most of all, what caught my eye was the wine decanter in the center of the table. The red liquid shimmered under the candlelight, emitting a deep purple hue.
"Hurry and sit down."
Chloe’s mother offered me the seat of honor, which was Frederick's spot. Chloe sat next to me, and across from us sat Chloe’s mother and Brandon.
"Dig in."
"Thank you for the meal."
Perhaps because Chloe’s mother had quite a talent for cooking, the food was excellent.
"I heard you learned farming quite professionally?"
Frederick asked as he speared a piece of roast chicken with his fork and brought it to his mouth.
"I studied on my own."
"On your own, to that extent? That's impressive. And you enrolled in UC Davis?"
"Yes."
"I looked into the Redwood vineyard, and I heard it suffered from a major pest infestation last year... You must have had quite a bit of confidence to acquire it."
"That's correct. I am confident that we are currently growing it under better conditions than any other farm cultivating Cabernet Sauvignon in Napa Valley."
"Ho-ho, is that so? What do you plan to do once it's fully grown? Hearing from my daughter that you're considering cherry wine, I assume you intend to make wine at your own winery rather than selling the grapes?"
"Last year, I made vinegar from the leftover grapes that lacked marketability and saw a pretty decent profit. Since the wine market isn't in a great situation, I plan to make half into vinegar and half into wine."
"Oh, I see. I heard about that. Is the vinegar quite popular?"
"Yes. I made 20,000 liters and supplied it primarily to Bristol Farms, and now the stock is empty, so I've notified them that it's finished for this year."
Impressed, Frederick looked at me with a meaningful gaze, then pointed to the decanter on the table and said.
"Now, I've prepared something special today. Have you ever heard the name *Château Margaux*?"
I looked at the red liquid in the glass and nodded.
"Yes, it's a first-growth wine from the Médoc region of Bordeaux. I've heard it called an elegant wine."
"You're an adult now, so it's fine to have a glass, right?"
"Yes, please."
Frederick poured the wine with practiced ease. Since I was only twenty, I didn't make a fuss by sniffing it first or swirling the glass; I just took a sip.
In truth, I had drunk a lot of wine even before I regressed, but it was more for research than for enjoyment.
"It's good."
"How is it?"
Asking for a specific description felt like a test of sorts.
"The tannins aren't harsh, so it's smooth. The finish is long-lasting, too."
I didn't bother showing off by rambling about notes of violet or cedar. I thought it was enough to answer concisely about the feeling of the wine I had just tasted.
"You felt it accurately. It's a favorite of mine, but it's a shame we can't make it in California."
"That's true."
"Do you happen to know why?"
"A style like *Château Margaux* requires the unique conditions of Bordeaux—a stable climate, good soil drainage, and mineral content. California is hot and dry, so even if you plant the same variety, the aroma becomes more intense and the alcohol content rises, so you don't get this kind of feeling."
He looked at me with a face full of admiration.
"I once asked a wine expert the same question, and the answer that expert gave was exactly the same as yours."
"I see."
I answered as if it were no big deal, and he looked at Chloe with a fresh sense of surprise before asking me.
"You said you were going to make cherry wine? Is 2 tons enough?"
"Actually, a scale of 20 tons is possible, but there's no reason to be greedy. I was just planning to make it because it felt like a waste to let the winery sit idle until October."
"Have you decided what kind of wine you're going to make?"
He was asking about the concept of the wine.
"Rather than me creating it, it's already determined. Basically, Brentwood cherries have concentrated juice because of the strong sunlight, and because the temperature drops sharply at night, they retain a moderate amount of acidity. So, cherries from Brentwood are high in sugar content but also have the right acidity and aroma."
"You know your stuff."
"Brentwood cherries have a very vibrant aroma. Since there are notes like red roses or cranberries in that scent, if fermented well, that aroma will come alive in the wine. The sweetness will naturally decrease... but instead, the acidity will remain, so wouldn't it become a dry wine that bursts with fruit flavor? That's my prediction."
It was just a prediction, and I would have to watch the fermentation process, but suddenly, Frederick closed his eyes and muttered as if in awe.
"A wine with a red ruby color... where if you bring the glass close, the scent of cherry blossoms and ripe cherry juice rises up. When you drink it, it's refreshing at first, and then leaves a lingering, subtle spice-like finish... That's the kind of wine it will be."
What is up with this guy?
"......I... suppose so?"
"A wine that is easy to drink, but doesn't just end on a light note. It will be a wine that makes anyone reach for a second glass."
For a moment, I almost asked Chloe if her father used to write poetry when he was young. Where did all this sentimentality come from?
At that moment, Frederick opened his eyes and said.
"I'll give you 10 tons for starters. Let's try making it with that."
"Pardon? Ah, we don't have the funds prepared for that scale."
I had some money left over from selling the vinegar, but since I had used it to pre-purchase Pinot Noir, my funds were tight. Since the cherry wine was just something to keep the winery busy, I hadn't intended to overreach.
But then,
"Don't worry about it. I'll give you the cherries for free."
"You're giving them to me for free?"
"In exchange, let's split the profits from the cherry wine 50/50. If the quality of the wine turns out well, I'd like to have a serious, long-term trade with you using our cherries... What do you think?"
I looked at his face in bewilderment and said.
"Let's make it 50/50 of the revenue from the farm, excluding distribution costs."
"Good. Deal."
He raised his wine glass, clinked it against mine, and grinned.