Chapter 96: Cult Wine (2)
TL: Hanguk
In the early evening, the sunset cast a quiet, beautiful glow over Chloe's home in Deer Ridge Country Club. But despite the lovely scenery outside, the atmosphere inside the house was anything but warm.
A bottle of wine and a simple meal had been laid out on the table, but Frederick's face was set in stone, and so his children Brandon and Chloe, as well as his wife Amelia, were all watching his expression nervously.
"You're making the kids too uncomfortable to even eat. Cut it out."
Amelia couldn't stand it any longer and spoke up, prompting Frederick to soften his expression.
"Right, okay. Let's eat."
He said let's eat, but Frederick kept sipping at his wine instead of touching the food in front of him, and Amelia, who wasn't pleased about it at all, tapped his plate with her fork.
"It's the lamb you love. Eat up."
Frederick nodded and chewed mechanically, then looked straight at Brandon, who was sitting at the end of the table with his head down, swallowing his meat in silence. He spoke carefully.
"Brandon, what would you think about just living a normal life?"
Brandon slowly lifted his head.
"What?"
"I know you're a farmer's son, but when I look at my friends' kids and the kids of the other co-op members, a lot of them have regular jobs. Some farm with their parents, but plenty don't. You may not have gone to a great school, but if you set your mind to working, you can make a living anywhere. Learn a real trade, and even if the work is hard on the body, you can pull in a hundred thousand a year."
His words were calm, but they made the air around the dinner table heavy.
"A trade?"
"You know the plumber in town, right? Mr. Jensen. He has his own business, so he probably brings in at least two hundred thousand a year."
"......"
"If we sell the farm, we'll get at least two and a half to three million dollars. I plan to leave that money to you, so you could learn a trade like Mr. Jensen and start your own business."
Brandon's spoon stopped mid-air. It was unexpected. Frederick wasn't saying "I'll leave it to you someday," he was talking as if he'd hand over two and a half million dollars right then. But strangely, instead of feeling pleased, Brandon felt his chest sink.
"You're going to... sell the farm?"
Frederick nodded.
"I'm not getting any younger, am I? When pests spread like they did this year and the weather flips on us, the season's basically done for. I'm not just blaming you. Even farmers more experienced than you can get blindsided like this, and I've been through it myself. The problem is, this kind of thing is going to keep happening. That's farming for you."
"......"
"If it doesn't suit you, I'd rather see you take a regular job or learn a trade like everyone else. Even a low-paying job would be fine with me. Two and a half million sitting in dividend-paying assets and a pension fund can generate pretty solid returns."
Unlike Koreans, Americans put a significant portion of their wealth into financial instruments like stocks, funds, and pensions. So Frederick's suggestion to his son wasn't anything unusual.
Brandon hung his head. In the old days, he would have jumped on the offer in a heartbeat. He would've planned to use the money right away to buy a car, chase women, and have a good time.
Of course, even now he was still very interested in women, and he hadn't given up on having fun either. There had been many times when he farmed during the day and drove out to a club in the evening, and Brandon thought of this as a sign of his own diligence. While other people just played, he was both working and playing these days, and lately he'd even come to see the friends his age who did nothing but party as a bit pathetic.
"What do you think?"
Brandon thought back over his recent life. Climbing up and down the farm every day, pouring his heart into the walnut trees... and then, the moment he realized that all that effort had come to nothing and the harvest was ruined, an empty, crushing disappointment had swept over him.
Honestly, taking the two and a half million and easing into a leisurely job search would be a hundred times better, but the words wouldn't come out of his mouth. It was because of Chloe, who was sitting right next to him, idly poking at her salad.
Chloe, who had once seemed interested in nothing but partying, had transformed the moment she met that Asian man. She hadn't been to a club once. From the moment she opened her eyes to the moment she closed them, she threw herself into farming as if she had been born for it. And somehow, he envied her. Her face wasn't the worn-out, irritated one of someone ground down by farm work; every single day, her expression was a happy one.
He still couldn't understand why his little sister enjoyed farming so much. But she had taken out more than a million dollars in loans on her own to bear that burden and farm, and as her older brother, running away would be humiliating.
After thinking it over for a moment, Brandon drew a quiet breath and spoke in a low but firm voice.
"... Give me one more chance."
Frederick's hand froze at the unexpected words.
"What did you say?"
"This year was my mistake. I wasn't prepared enough, and I took the weather too lightly. But next year, I'll do things differently. What happened this year won't happen again."
There was resolve in his son's eyes, and Frederick thought the look was just like Chloe's when she had first opposed using pesticide to control pests, saying the cherry trees would be harmed.
Frederick stared into those eyes for a moment, then spoke quietly.
"If we sell the farm, we'll get at least two and a half million in hand. You're saying you'll give that up and keep farming?"
"I'm not giving it up. We can still sell it later. Before that, I just want to give it a real try."
Brandon wasn't the only one who had taken an emotional hit from the failed walnut harvest this year. Frederick had been wrestling with it seriously too, which was why he had asked his son's opinion, but deep down he had expected Brandon to give up on the farm.
Which made his son's answer all the more unexpected.
"... Alright. Eat."
"Yes."
Frederick said nothing more and picked up his wine again, but his wife Amelia could feel that his mood had lifted considerably. His expression had grown noticeably more relaxed.
After dinner, once the children had gone back to their rooms, Frederick and Amelia were left alone, sharing wine in the quiet as their conversation continued.
"Were you actually planning to leave Brandon the money from selling the farm?"
"Why? Does it sound like a lie?"
"You don't usually trust Brandon. Didn't you say before that handing money to kids at a young age ruins them?"
"I did. And I still think that. So what I meant earlier was that it would be managed by a wealth manager. Brandon would only be able to use about a hundred thousand of it himself."
"So just enough to make him feel rich, and the rest is untouchable? Our son could buy that one nice car he's been dreaming about, and that'd be it."
"He'd still get to use whatever comes out as dividends. Just that alone would be plenty for him to live on by himself, without ever holding down a job. Don't you think?"
"I suppose that's true..."
"The problem is..."
Frederick's hand, which had been swirling his wine glass, came to a stop. With a heavy, sunken look in his eyes, he continued.
"It's a walnut farm right now... and the weather's gotten so erratic that the variety itself can't hold up. No matter how well we do it, there's no profit left over. With cherries, we work with Brian, so we can maximize our earnings through the wine. But with walnuts, there's nothing like that. That's why Brian doesn't bother collaborating on them."
"You're saying that even if Brandon succeeds at walnut farming on his own, there's nothing left at the end? Come on, walnuts have brought in decent money every year."
Amelia was a farmer's wife. It wasn't as if she stayed home knowing nothing about the business.
"Have I gotten too picky?"
"You have, honestly. Brian raised your expectations way too high. The price of cherries has gone way up compared to before, and you know you don't even factor in what it used to be when you do your math these days, right?"
"Hmm... but I'm not trying to charge more without a reason. Our cherries really are special."
"I know. But it's also true that's exactly why walnut farming looks so shabby in comparison."
"......"
His wife was right. In the past, the profit from walnut farming alone would have been more than enough, but now it just looked too small. That was the problem.
"Still, I'm proud of Brandon. He gets cowed around you, but you have no idea how hard he's been working lately."
"You think I don't see that?"
"If you see it, then show it once in a while, would you?"
"......"
"Anyway, that's why you proposed selling the farm? Because even you can see the work is grueling and the profit isn't worth it, so you figured if Brandon agreed, you'd happily sell?"
Frederick nodded honestly.
"That's right. I figured of course Brandon would agree, but the boy's changed a bit. Part of me's pleased, part of me thinks it's a real shame... waiting one more year isn't a problem in itself, but I am worried."
"Don't be like that. How about asking Brian again?"
Amelia set down her glass and smiled gently.
"He recommended pears instead of tomatoes, didn't he? We don't know yet how it'll turn out, but if you go to him directly and ask, maybe he can suggest another alternative."
"You mean switch the variety? The way they went with pears instead of tomatoes?"
"If Brandon agrees to it, I think that might be the better move long-term."
Changing crop varieties was harder than changing careers. It meant tearing out all the infrastructure that had been invested in and tended over the years, then bringing in more capital to rebuild the whole environment to suit the new crop.
That was why Chloe's choice had been one that not just anyone could make.
"Hmm, alright. I'll do that."
Would Brian have an answer this time too? Frederick's worries only deepened.
With August right around the corner, the vineyard had to be tended to with the same nervous care as a high school senior preparing for the college entrance exam. By now, it had grown quite large, and to inspect everything from Redwood Farm to the newly acquired Ironwood Cellars plot, I had to eat lunch quickly. Waking up early was a given.
For me especially, since composing a wine was another thing that mattered to me, the day felt even shorter once I factored in the preparation for making a new cult-grade wine in the aging cellar.
"I can handle the flavor, but how do I build the story..."
What determined a wine's price wasn't just the taste, but rarity and story. So how to construct that story had been my biggest preoccupation lately.
I was standing in front of one of the giant stainless steel tanks in the aging cellar, deep in thought, when Uncle Frederick called.
"Yes, Uncle?"
"I've got something on my mind. The thing is..."
After hearing the rough outline, I gave a wry smile. I could tell just how deeply he had been wrestling with this.
"Got it. I'll head over now."
I was busy, but not so busy that I couldn't spare some advice for Uncle Frederick, given the strategic business partnership we had together. And so, having arrived at Deer Ridge Country Club, I looked out at the golf course in front of the house alongside Frederick as we talked.
"So what you're saying is, instead of walnut farming, you might switch to a different crop?"
"That's right. The way you recommended pears instead of tomatoes."
"Hmm... and Brandon would be the one running it?"
Frederick wore a slightly awkward expression and quickly added, as if defending himself:
"Don't worry, I'll be helping too."
"Haa..."
"What? Is it tough? I get it if it might be hard."
"The crop itself wouldn't be that difficult, I don't think..."
His proposal wasn't really that hard a question for me. Going by 2006, I knew a few crops that, if one started preparing now, would bring in solid profits, even if not a windfall.
The real issue was going to be the various environmental conditions.
"Then?"
"Two come to mind right off the bat. One is blueberries."
"Blueberries? Would that make money?"
At this point in time, blueberries weren't a particularly hot crop. Which meant that getting into the market now and staking out a claim could yield profits that set it well apart from walnut farming.
"Probably? That's what I think."
But Frederick hadn't seen much of blueberries in the market, so he couldn't immediately respond with enthusiasm. When choosing a crop, one naturally wanted to see something in the numbers, and blueberries were still lacking on that front. More than anything, the unfamiliarity of it must have been weighing on him.
"Hmm... and the other?"
"Almonds."
His eyes widened.
"Almonds?"
"Yes, almonds."
"Almonds, almonds..."
Curiosity slowly began to creep into his eyes. There was no way he didn't know that almonds were starting to draw attention in the market right now. The strange thing was that this very moment, in 2006, was right on the eve of the almond gold rush, and prices were already beginning to stir in the market, little by little.
"But almonds need a huge initial investment, and the first harvest comes too late. It takes at least four to five years."
"That's true."
"So what if, hypothetically... you sold the walnut farm and bought an almond farm?"
At my question, his eyes opened wide.
"You mean... swap farms?"
"Niitaka pears don't have any large-scale farms in California, so we had to start from scratch. But almonds are different."
He had been thrown off at first by the idea of selling the farm, but slowly, the look in his eyes began to change.
"Sell, and buy again...?"
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