Mid-November, while Silpheed was causing a stir in the wine industry, was a period so hectic I barely had time to breathe.
Not only did we have to release Echelon, but Serasia was next in line for shipment. That was why, no matter how well Silpheed was selling, I didn't feel particularly excited. From the winery's standpoint, the ex-winery price was already fixed at seventy dollars, and we wouldn't be able to negotiate that price until sometime next year.
But Echelon was in a somewhat different position.
My expectations for Echelon, which had become even more perfect than last year when it had received Double Gold, were very high. The Echelon I made this time, monitoring temperature, CO₂, and dissolved oxygen levels, was clearly different from last year's, which had been crafted by instinct alone.
"Hmm... It needs another year of aging..."
For the cult wine I was ambitiously developing in particular, I had to check the condition of each barrel precisely. The 2004 Merlot barrel from Kenaz Vineyards, which I had purchased at auction, had been aged for over an additional year and was now ready to serve as the perfect blending partner.
So while I was agonizing over which barrels to select, a guest arrived at the winery.
John Anderson.
He walked in carrying heavy paper bags in both hands and put on a strange smile.
"What is all this?"
To my father's question, he replied as if it were only natural.
"The hero of Napa Valley. These are gifts for Redwood. I have a favor to ask, and I hope you won't feel burdened. Part of this was sent by Macy's department store as a token of gratitude as well."
"Haha, even if you say that, I don't think we can help but feel a little burdened."
Father laughed awkwardly. He knew what John's intention was.
When we had first signed a contract with John Anderson, it had been a distribution agreement for the 2005 and 2006 vintages, and now we were entering the final contract year. The initial two-year term was ending, and John was revealing his desire to extend it without reservation.
"Do you know what the situation is right now? People are flocking to Macy's department store just to find Echelon."
"I suppose wine enthusiasts might do that."
Father tried not to react to John's exaggerated fuss.
"Hahaha, why are you jumping to conclusions? Please, have a seat first."
Once Father and I sat down, John began pulling items out one by one from the paper bags he had brought. When I looked, they were luxury-brand goods of every sort.
There was a bag for Mom, a suit, wallet, and shoes for Father, and a suit and shoes for me.
Just as before the regression, even now I wasn't close to luxury brands. If I had money, expanding equipment or securing more vineyards was always more important to me.
"Why would you bring all of this..."
"It's our sincerity, our sincerity..."
He pressed a wallet into Father's hand as Father tried to refuse, then spoke.
"It brings back old memories. When I had ruined the farm and was about to give up on everything, the moment your son and you, Woody Choi, told me to sell the farm—looking back now, I believe it was the moment that saved my life."
"No, well..."
"Do you know why the farm failed?"
"Pardon? That's because..."
"Pests and diseases spread severely, proper control measures weren't taken, and a considerable amount of grapes lost their commercial value that year. But would we have sold the farm just because we suffered for a few years when we had been farming for decades?"
It seemed there had been another reason.
"Then?"
When Father narrowed his eyes and asked, John spoke with a bitter smile.
"My son caused trouble. He fell in with bad kids and stirred up incidents to a degree that's hard to put into words. I, who had little interest in farming to begin with, found it even harder to focus on the work. No, I came to dislike even caring about it. Honestly, whether I paid attention or not, a steady income had kept coming in, and even when pest damage and various problems occurred, my father—who had passed the farm down to me—said the income kept flowing, so I didn't worry."
"Goodness..."
"So I only realized the farm was failing long after it had started. By then, there was nothing I could do. There was even someone who approached me offering to solve the farm's problems, only to take the money and run... In the end, I couldn't hold out and took on investors, but they wanted to recover their money even if it meant selling the farm, so I had no choice but to sell it cheap."
"I understand."
"But look at me now. Don't I look fairly respectable?"
As he spread his arms and laughed, his expression was clearly different from before. The man who used to walk around looking like death now exuded a sense of ease, even in the comfortable clothes of a truck driver.
"I suppose so."
"This is all thanks to you, Woody Choi, and your son."
Father, who had been wearing an awkward smile, looked at me. It was a smile that asked what we should do.
"How are Echelon sales going?"
To my question, John pulled a file folder from his bag as if he had been waiting and opened it.
At the very front was a department store promotional catalog bearing the title *[Macy's Echelon 2006 Exclusive Launch]*.
"First, the Echelon we distributed to retail stores last year is now circulating mainly through Macy's department store. The price range is high, but I believe it may actually be worth it."
"How much is it selling for?"
"Three hundred and twenty dollars."
I immediately frowned. The price was too high, which meant there was no reason for us to maintain our supply price of seventy dollars.
Sensing that, John spoke at once.
"If the supply price goes up, Macy's will raise the retail price. Since it's sold at wine shops affiliated with the department store, their thirty percent department store commission means it's not actually too expensive."
"How much is the department store commission?"
"Thirty percent."
It was higher than I had expected, but I was still not satisfied.
"Hmm... It still feels expensive, doesn't it?"
"The reviews are just that good, after all. Macy's raised the price on their own initiative, so I didn't expect it to reach this level either. What's more surprising is that even at this price, they instituted a 'one bottle per person' limit. When they did that, a reservation waitlist formed instead. Some locations sold out completely on the first day."
Excitement was evident in John's voice.
"I want to continue our contract with Redwood. What do you two think?"
Whether this year would be our last or whether we would continue into next year was extremely important. Depending on which distributor we worked with, our brand image and pricing could change drastically.
From that perspective, Mr. John Anderson had clear strengths and weaknesses. Since his distribution company was still in its early days, he lacked experience, covered a small territory, and had limited marketing power.
On the other hand, the advantages were that his small size meant my input was reflected strongly, there was little pressure exerted on the winery, and he could conduct more aggressive sales.
"You must have prepared a contract. May we take a look?"
When Father asked, John immediately turned to the back of the file folder and showed us.
**[Contract Term: 2 Years + 1 Year Option]**
**[Territory: US West (CA·NV·AZ)]**
**[Exclusivity: Large Retail Channels Only]**
**[Payment: Net 60, Quarterly Advance Payment]**
**[No Returns]**
John leaned forward earnestly.
"I don't believe the sales surge at Macy's is a temporary trend. Right now, Silpheed is exploding on the East Coast, and in the West, Echelon is rising to the same position. Our contract with Redwood accounts for forty-five percent of our company's revenue. We desperately want to renew with Redwood."
Echelon aside, Armando's Redwood vinegar was already generating considerable revenue. Armando harbored the ambition that if he could maintain stable vinegar sales for three more years and pay down most of his loans, he would cut vinegar production in half and try his hand at making wine.
Father examined the contract carefully before speaking.
"Understood. We'll think it over."
John knew this couldn't be decided in a day, so he answered readily.
"Of course. I can wait as long as needed."
Since we were contracting for next year's distribution rather than this year's, we were in no hurry.
John smiled, extended his hand for a handshake, then departed the winery. Father watched his retreating figure quietly before speaking.
"What do you want to do?"
"They're selling it at the department store for more than expected. If that's the case, there's no reason for us to maintain seventy dollars, so if Mr. John is willing to distribute at around one hundred and twenty, I don't think we'll necessarily need to find someone else."
"That's true. John Anderson is basically just a middleman with Macy's department store anyway. How convenient is that? He buys from us, delivers to the department store, and earns hundreds of dollars per case."
"Thinking about it that way stings a little."
Father laughed and ruffled my hair.
"Let's not be too greedy. Even this much makes me incredibly happy."
"Me too. It's good to see people making money with our wine."
"... Should we just open our own distribution company?"
"Dad..."
"Okay, okay... I'm truly happy."
"Really?"
"I told you I am. But what should we do with the money we made this time? I looked into it, and I heard a few AVAs for grape cultivation have come onto the market?"
At Father's question, I let out a small sigh.
"Hmm, no. Let's save up money this time."
We had taken out considerable loans for the Silver Oak wildfire-damaged property, the Ironwood Cellars farm, and winery equipment expansion, but we had covered a significant portion with our earnings so far. A lot of money went to interest payments, but since a comparable amount had come in, there wasn't much to regret.
Therefore, the full $2.5 million from Silpheed's sell-out was sitting intact in our account, and Echelon sales were being deposited steadily. Including Serasia, we could expect at least $3.5 million to come in.
Six million dollars. It was truly an enormous sum.
Father was talking about opening a distribution company, but simply operating a winery with annual sales exceeding six million dollars was already an enviable position. So while it would make sense to buy farm land with at least half of it, there was a reason I had decided to sit this year out.
The subprime mortgage crisis coming next year.
The reason I remembered that period so vividly was the same for anyone—the experience of housing prices crashing. The terrible memory of the house I had bought with money earned through hard work, plus loans, plummeting in value.
I didn't remember the exact details, but I had heard that Napa Valley AVAs had also experienced considerable price drops at the time. During the subprime crisis, credit froze and loan interest rates skyrocketed, so it was clear that people who had been operating farms on borrowed money would have listed their properties even at a loss.
Rather than buying now, it was better to gather funds and purchase farms after the crash.
"Then how about changing our house?"
Father, unaware of what was on my mind, immediately revealed his desire for a house now that a huge sum was about to come into our hands. In truth, the house we lived in was a rental, and not a very nice one at that. The only saving grace was that it was somewhat spacious, given that it was in the countryside.
It was only natural for anyone to desire a house.
"A house is out of the question."
I knew full well what would happen next year. I didn't know about other things, but a house was definitely out.
"Then stocks..."
"Stocks are out too."
"What? So you're saying we should just leave that money in the bank?"
Objectively speaking, I knew it was absurd, but this was a time when we shouldn't touch real estate or stocks.
"What about... a car?"
"A car?"
Father's eyes sparkled. He grinned and slipped into the office. He was surely searching online to see what new cars were available.
"Then I should too..."
Honestly, that pickup truck was getting far too old. Thinking that I should take this opportunity to get a new car, I felt a smile form on my lips before I knew it.