The First Delivery
I had felt it from the very beginning: those who have managed a farm for a long time inevitably accumulate their own set of know-how. That is why they rarely make major mistakes with fertilizer. I had been puzzled as to how he could have made such an error, but at the time, I had suspected Brandon, given his boorish behavior.
It was only natural to assume he was up to something, considering how he had been throwing a tantrum because he didn't want to hand the farm over to his younger sister, right?
“Raymond has worked devotedly at our farm for a very long time, but... if what you say is true and my brother really did use him, it would be such a shock. But is there a specific reason you think that?”
I looked at Brandon’s broad back and thick backside as I spoke.
“If someone has been managing a farm for a long time, they accumulate their own experience, so they rarely make mistakes. It’s the same when applying fertilizer. They apply the same amount at the same time every year. They know better than anyone that it shouldn't change.”
“But aren't there times when you have no choice but to change it?”
“True. There are a few cases in a cherry orchard where you have to vary the amount of fertilizer, like when you judge the fruit set to be low, when there are extreme climate fluctuations, or when you judge the trees to be young... things like that. But the cherry trees I saw at the time didn't look that young, and I didn't feel the fruit set was excessively low, either.”
“Yeah, that’s right. My mom said the same. She thought this year’s harvest wouldn't be bad. The workers said so, too.”
“Then is it possible it was due to climate change? For instance, if there was a lot of rain in winter or spring, nutrients could leach out, requiring additional fertilization. Or conversely, in a dry year, the trees are under growth stress, so you have to reduce fertilizer to avoid root damage.”
“There really is so much to know about farming...”
Chloe seemed more surprised by my explanation than anything else.
“Of course. Anyway, if it had been dry, you would have had to reduce the fertilizer, so we can rule that out. But I haven't heard that there was a lot of rain last winter or this spring. Was there?”
“...No.”
“Right. Then there’s no reason the fertilizer amount should have been changed before spring.”
Chloe, unable to listen any longer, suddenly straightened her back.
“What? Then that means what Raymond did wasn't a mistake!”
“Calm down. Do you really think your father doesn't know what I know?”
“...Do you think he knows?”
“......”
I shook my head at the daughter who couldn't trust her father at all.
“He must know. But it seems like a situation where it’s hard to push Raymond too hard without proof. Isn't it possible that Brandon begged Raymond to teach him a way to do it?”
“That’s highly likely.”
Her distrust of her brother was also extreme.
“So, your father is probably keeping a close eye on Raymond without being able to say anything directly. No, perhaps he might have even met with him and talked. He might have asked what his intentions were.”
“Do you really think so?”
“Probably? From what I saw while standing nearby, Brandon doesn't seem to have any sense for fertilizer variations. He didn't seem to have that level of agricultural knowledge. Anyway, if your father knows, Raymond will be careful from now on, but well... I don't think it’s good for someone like that to remain at your farm for long...”
“You’re right that it’s not a good idea.”
“Honestly, isn't it? Let’s say a farm manager was begged by someone like that... to ruin the place managed by his younger sister. And he actually helped? If your father hasn't fired Raymond, it’s probably because of his history of devotion to the farm and the lack of concrete evidence. Oh, is Raymond still helping you?”
Chloe, perhaps feeling disappointed in someone she had trusted, shook her head dejectedly.
“He’s mostly taking care of things at my brother’s walnut farm now.”
“Then that’s an even bigger problem.”
“Are you suggesting that Raymond might be pulling something at the walnut farm, too? That’s impossible. Dad is looking over every single detail of the records.”
“He’ll read the reports, sure. But what if the records say 100 bags of fertilizer were used, but only 90 were actually applied? Would he be able to know that?”
“......”
“I’m not saying it’s certain, but it’s entirely possible. That’s why in farming, you have to choose the land yourself, apply the fertilizer yourself, and know every corner of the farm like the back of your hand. But since the land is so vast... do you know why your father relied on his children so much? It’s because he couldn't trust anyone else.”
Whether it’s a company or a farm, having someone you can trust—or not having them—has a massive impact on a manager.
“Then, my dad having my brother follow you around to learn...”
“It could be to help him do things on his own without Raymond’s help, and perhaps he has a glimmer of hope that he might change like you did.”
“Ah...”
I watched Chloe nod, then spoke gently.
“Don't slack off, keep digging. Yours is the only spot that isn't finished yet.”
Not just Brandon, but dozens of other workers had already moved on to other trees, digging circles and burying fertilizer just as I had shown them.
“I know, I know, geez...”
Chloe grumbled and started digging again, and I stood back with my hands behind my back, leisurely starting to think about what I should ask Mom to make for dinner tonight.
The next day, around 7:30 AM at Redwood Winery.
A white box truck rolled slowly forward in the winery yard.
“How is it? Doesn't it look cool?”
Mom and I looked up at the truck Dad had driven out.
“Drive safely.”
“It does look cool.”
Mom and I had different reactions.
It was an Isuzu NPR, a 14-foot medium-duty refrigerated box truck. It was a vehicle we had leased through a rental company called Ryder.
Originally, due to the Three-Tier System, it was illegal for a winery to distribute directly to restaurants, but since we had registered with the ABC (Alcoholic Beverage Control) and obtained a license that allowed direct delivery (Winegrower License, Type-02), it wasn't a problem.
John Anderson could have handled the distribution for us, but the reason we didn't call him was that the cherry wine wasn't made from grapes grown at the Redwood farm. Still, since profit margins would plummet if we used a distributor, Dad had gone out of his way to obtain a distribution license, saying there was no need for one.
The ‘Redwood Reserve Winery’ logo temporarily attached to the side of the truck body was quite impressive. It was just a makeshift sticker, but it looked surprisingly stylish.
Dad, sitting in the driver’s seat, rolled down the window and said,
“I’ll be back safely.”
“Yes~ Drive carefully.”
Dad nodded briefly and stepped on the accelerator. With the low, distinct roar of a diesel engine, the truck rolled down along the Napa road.
Starting with our first destination, the restaurant ‘Cordiance’ in downtown Napa, to the wine bar ‘The Girl’ in Sonoma, the restaurant ‘Grill & Pasta,’ and so on... Dad’s refrigerated truck moved without rest.
He grabbed a quick lunch at a burger joint and kept moving; by the time he reached Blaze Bistro in San Francisco, it was already close to 6:00 PM.
“You’ve finally arrived!”
The owner, Theodore Goodwin, came out personally to check the goods from Woody Choi.
“I hope it receives a good evaluation.”
“If the quality is the same as the tasting event, there will definitely be good results.”
It was quite impressive to see the staff diligently unloading a whopping 40 cases of wine at such a famous restaurant. And Theodore Goodwin didn't lose his smile, as if he were certain of success.
Theodore Goodwin, who had written and handed a check for the remaining balance to the winery owner, Woody Choi, went straight inside and called for the Head Chef, Henry Wilson.
“I told you about it before, right? This is that cherry wine.”
Henry Wilson examined the label on the wine bottle with interest and raised his eyebrows.
“Cera...”
“Cerassia.”
“Ah, Cerassia. May I taste it?”
“Of course.”
Henry immediately called for the chefs and waiters. He poured a little bit of the wine for each of them.
“It’s a new wine, so everyone take a taste. For your reference, the retail price is $65.”
Since it was a wine for pairing, the chefs naturally had to taste it, and since they had to recommend it to guests, the waiters had to taste it as well. Those who felt the aroma and took a sip opened their eyes wide in surprise.
“This is cherry wine?”
“Wow...”
In particular, the Sous Chef, Andres, who could be called the number two, furrowed his brow with an expression of disbelief.
“How does cherry wine have such a complex structure? It feels completely different from any cherry wine I’ve tasted so far.”
The restaurant’s sommelier, Sophia, also had an impressed expression.
“This is truly special. At this price, it will definitely leave a deep impression on the customers.”
Theodore Goodwin, who had been watching his staff taste it, smiled contentedly and said,
“Let’s make Cerassia our recommended low-cost wine for this Christmas.”
We sold it to them for $18 a bottle, but the price at the restaurant was $65. Even so, it was classified as a low-cost wine. Just as regular restaurants make money from alcohol rather than food, wine is what leaves the biggest margin for restaurants as well.
Since it was still the busy dinner hour, the brief moment of leisure ended, and the staff returned to their stations to focus on their work. Then, Sophia, the sommelier, said this to a customer who asked for a wine recommendation.
“If your main dish is the scallops with lobster and cherry gastrique sauce, I recommend the cherry wine that arrived today. You won't regret it.”
At Sophia’s response, the customer who had asked for the recommendation, Christopher White, furrowed his brow slightly.
“Ah, today is an important day, so please recommend a good wine.”
He politely tried to get a different wine recommendation. But the young woman sitting across from him leaned forward and said,
“I like it. If you’re going to act all high-and-mighty with that pathetic wine knowledge of yours again, I’m going home, so just know that.”
Christopher, in his mid-thirties, had a slightly embarrassed expression but soon raised his hands as if to say, do whatever you want.
“Give it to us. The lady in front of me wants it.”
It was a situation where he felt like he had made a mistake, but Sophia trusted the feeling she had when she tasted it earlier.
“I’m sure you won't regret it.”
As the sommelier left, Christopher tried to say something, but he just shut his mouth at the sight of the woman’s glaring eyes. The woman, satisfied with having silenced the man, smiled and said,
“I want you to know that I’m here to date you, not to be lectured. Save that for the avid readers of the wine journal you contribute to.”
“I just wanted to share a lot of knowledge about wine.”
“Sometimes that knowledge ruins the atmosphere. Look at just now. The sommelier recommended it in good faith. It was even an inexpensive one.”
“You don't know, but cherry wine isn't actually considered wine. It’s just... nothing more than imitation fruit liquor. Today is an important day, so...”
But the woman cut him off with a wave of her hand and said firmly,
“Stop. Just because it’s an important day doesn't mean I necessarily want to drink expensive wine. And I’m curious about that imitation liquor.”
“Phew, fine. I get it.”
The couple, who had seemed to be arguing, switched the topic to something else, and as if they had never fought, they looked at each other with lovely smiles. Then the wine arrived. Sophia showed the wine to Christopher first.
“Cera...ssia?”
“Oh, the name is pretty!”
Unlike Christopher, who was furrowing his brow, the woman’s expression brightened, saying she liked the name. And Sophia poured the liquor into the glasses placed in front of each of them. The sound of the purple liquid falling clearly. Perhaps visually satisfied, the woman wore a deep, bright smile on her lips.
“To our 5th anniversary.”
“You’ve worked hard all this time.”
They brought the glasses, which clinked with a clear, ringing sound, to their lips. And,
“Wow~ I’m completely satisfied! Thank you so much. I was so tired of that man in front of me acting all high-and-mighty, but this really put him in his place.”
Sophia smiled at her praise. And Christopher, who had swallowed the wine he had held in his mouth, looked at the purple liquid with a strange expression before saying to Sophia,
“Could you give me that bottle for a second?”
Christopher, who had received the bottle, tilted his head after seeing what was written on the label.
[Redwood Winery Napa Valley, California]
“Redwood... but Napa Valley?”
Having been surprised once by the taste of cherry wine, which he had never felt before, he was surprised a second time that they were making wine from cherries, not grapes, on that expensive land.
He stared intently at the name of the winery.