As I looked at his reddened eyes, an old memory suddenly came to mind.
“It’s a story about someone I know. His parents were farmers, and their son was an accountant. He couldn’t understand why his parents farmed, why they did such hard work, but one day, while he happened to help his aging parents with the farm, he realized something. His body was exhausted, and it was so difficult... but he felt a sense of fulfillment beyond that. So he decided he wanted to become more like his parents, and he started farming.”
“......”
“Perhaps your son also became interested in grapes because he wanted to become like you, Mr. Elias. Maybe he worked hard because he wanted to do even better after being praised, and then was devastated by his mistake and left simply because... he was ashamed. That’s what that person told me.”
“Oh, is that so? Sounds like you know him quite well.”
“Yes, we’re fairly close. If he learns that this wine has come into the world, I’m sure he’ll think of his father.”
Elias held the ruby-colored wine up to the sunlight again and smiled bitterly.
“I hope that when that boy tastes this wine, he thinks of Grendel Hill.”
“If he knows that his parents are always waiting in the same place, he’ll surely come back.”
He nodded silently. Then he rose from his seat and walked over to the map hanging on the office wall.
“The places you’ve contracted are this F Block and E Block, and this H Block here. There happen to be some other blocks whose contracts expire this year. Would you like to sign for them?”
Watching him point them out one by one with his finger as he explained, I smiled faintly.
“You’ll give me a good price, right?”
“Hmph! Grape prices are not something you beat down! You take them for exactly what they’re worth. Still, since it’s you, I’ll make sure not to fleece you.”
“Come on, you make wine this well. Give me a little discount.”
“No. Next year, people wanting this will be lined up for more than a mile.”
At his fastidious refusal to lower the price, I burst out laughing.
“Hahaha, understood.”
“But I have one condition.”
“What is it?”
“Sell about thirty percent of Quiet Hill’s total volume in Europe.”
It wasn’t as if I couldn’t guess the reason. Since this was something that should work out if I discussed it properly with Christopher, I readily accepted.
“I’ll do that.”
“Good.”
Elias smiled softly, then stroked the wine I had brought as if it were a person.
If Grendel Hill Farm’s single-vineyard Pinot Noir went to Europe, he must have begun to hope that the chances of his son tasting wine made from his father’s grapes would increase.
“Then let’s go out to the fields and watch the harvest.”
Now it was time to work again. When we left the office, dozens of workers who had just finished preparing were standing in rows.
“Be careful, and careful again, so the berries don’t fall off!”
At Elias’s shout, the workers dispersed, and I slowly walked after him.
---
As October began, I moved so busily that twenty-four hours in a day weren’t enough. Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon was harvested from early to mid-October, so October was already a busy time to begin with, but now with wine releases and having to look after other farms as well, even two bodies wouldn’t have been enough.
First, Redwood released Sylphid, its single-vineyard Pinot Noir, before anything else.
“This vintage is the best as well. New York will probably be in an uproar over Sylphid once again.”
After tasting the newly released Sylphid for the first time, Christopher exclaimed in admiration and spent three days sweeping through the warehouse. Even Warren was surprised when he cleared out a whopping 3,800 cases in one go. In terms of price, it meant he had paid in more than three million dollars at once.
For a small-to-medium distributor, it was a fairly large expenditure, but it was worth it because of the price of Pinot Noir, which had continued to rise ever since the film Sideways was released.
“Did you secure Russian River Valley Pinot Noir in advance because you foresaw this kind of situation?”
Warren clicked his tongue as he watched the warehouse, once filled to the brim, empty out completely.
“No.”
Of course, that was a lie.
“Incredible. On the other hand, I hear Merlot has dropped by thirty percent.”
“Oh dear... what a shame.”
Unfortunately, Merlot, which the film’s protagonist disliked and disparaged, had seen grape spot prices plunge by more than twenty-five percent compared to 2004, while wine prices had also collapsed by around thirty percent. The same time, effort, and money had been spent growing them, but some farms made money while others suffered great losses.
“That’s why luck is important in business too. Since it’s Russian River Valley Pinot Noir, which could be called the prince of Pinot Noir, that distributor named Christopher must be the only one having fun.”
“That’s true, actually. The wholesale price is the same as last year’s. Still, since we raised the wholesale price significantly last year, I have no complaints.”
“Well, a Pinot Noir with a wholesale price of seventy dollars... all the wineries in Sonoma must be screaming.”
“... By the way, when will the brandy be ready?”
“......”
After Sylphid, the next to be released was Echelon. This time, the F&B manager from Macy’s and John Anders came together and cleaned out the warehouse.
“Thank you for giving us the finest Cab again this year.”
At the two men’s grateful greeting, Warren cautiously suggested,
“I think we could raise the price, don’t you? It feels even better than last year’s vintage.”
On the day the bottled Echelon was released and the first bottle was opened, he had downed two bottles by himself and even slept in the aging room hugging the wine. Because of that, his two sons had caused a commotion, saying they would bring employees from Steg Lip to escort him out.
“We still have the real weapon left. I’d still like Echelon not to be too expensive a wine.”
“That’s not bad either.”
Aside from the wine releases, I often went to the pear farm to help Chloe.
“Thankfully, the salinity has gone down a lot. The flower buds have also come up quite well, normally enough.”
“It’s still disappointing. More could have come up...”
“It’s all right. It’s your first time farming, and it was your first time dealing with muddy water backflow. It couldn’t be helped. Still, since you secured water permanently, you could even call it a blessing in disguise. Pear farming requires a lot of water.”
Climate change wasn’t severe yet, but as time gradually passed, California would also begin to experience severe climate fluctuations. The damage would become so great that some would even start planting crops resilient to the climate crisis, so securing a permanent water supply was a far bigger deal than Chloe realized.
“We also have to check whether enough flower buds have formed. Whether they’re too concentrated toward the top or the inside, and whether the distribution of flower buds is balanced on each branch.”
“My eyes are going to pop out at this rate.”
“But you can do it, right?”
“Yeah.”
Chloe grumbled as if it were hard, but she never missed what had to be done.
“Now you have to cut off nitrogen completely. You need to stop new shoot growth and harden the tissues of the trunk and branches to prevent cold damage.”
“Huh? That sounds difficult.”
“To put it simply, pear tree shoots are weak, so they can be damaged in winter. You guide them into hardening their tissue. To do that, you cut off nitrogen and stop the growth signal. Then the branches harden, and even below freezing, there’s almost no cellular destruction.”
“Oh, I see?”
“You also reduce the moisture content and make them accumulate carbohydrates so they can endure winter well.”
“But California winters aren’t that cold, are they?”
“That’s right. But the daily temperature range is large, so sudden cold air, or advection frost, can severely damage the trees. That’s why, even in California, how they get through the winter is extremely important. If they spend winter in incomplete dormancy, the buds won’t break all at once, and flowering will be uneven over two to three weeks. Pollination will fail. Then, naturally, fruit set will be poor, and yield will drop sharply, right?”
“Ah... I see. You’re a total doctor, a doctor.”
Chloe thumped her chest lightly a few times, then nestled into my arms. As we spent such sweet, affectionate time together, we had already reached the end of October, and Quiet Hill was released.
---
A white mansion in Healdsburg with the Russian River visible at a glance below. It was the home of Mark Harrington, the owner of Harrington Winery, considered one of the top three in Sonoma.
The doorbell rang there, and a visitor arrived.
“Mark.”
When the door opened, the person standing there was Joseph Haggins of Castello Winery. It was not strange for him to visit, but when Mark saw the wine in his hand, his expression hardened slightly.
QUIET HILL, and REDWOOD.
Seeing the wine openly marked Grendel Hill Vineyard made a flame surge up inside him.
“Aren’t you even going to tell me to come in?”
“Come in.”
Joseph deliberately lifted the bottle so the label could be seen clearly.
“I hear it’s been released.”
Mark said nothing for a moment. He simply guided him to the reception sofa in the living room, brought wineglasses, and sat down with a thud.
Seeing his attitude, Joseph only smiled faintly and silently pulled the cork with the opener on the table. There was no pop. Just a quiet, neat sound of opening.
“Have you tried it already?”
Joseph nodded and said as he poured the wine,
“It reminded me of Daniel.”
At those words, Mark’s face hardened once more. Daniel Grendel. A young man who had once been the winemaker at Harrington Winery, and the man who had completed the structure of Harrington Winery’s current flagship, Harrington Noctis Ridge Pinot Noir.
“Did you come to mock me?”
“As if I would. Honestly, I just think it’s a shame. If that friend had still been here, Quiet Hill’s owner might have been you.”
“That sounds like mockery too.”
Joseph quietly handed him a glass, and Mark accepted it. As if by prior agreement, the two brought their glasses to the tips of their noses, then lightly took a sip.
“As expected... it’s worthy of a Russian River Valley Pinot Noir.”
Joseph nodded, set down his glass, and continued.
“I was worried that, because of awkward feelings, you might fail to properly recognize the strength of a competitor.”
“Ha. You thought I’d avoid it?”
“If not, then that’s a relief.”
“Hmph! I tasted it before you brought it here.”
Joseph’s eyes widened, as if that was unexpected.
“You did? They announced that it was being released, but it hasn’t even gone into distribution yet. All they did was send small amounts to nearby wineries, and I should have been the first to bring it to you.”
“I experienced it three weeks ago.”
“Three weeks?”
At Joseph’s expression of disbelief, Mark gave a small laugh.
“At Warren’s house.”
Only then did Joseph look as though he understood.
“Ah... you tasted it when the old gentleman brought some home in advance. Then it seems I brought it for nothing.”
At the implication that he had come all this way on purpose for him, Mark smiled bitterly. He knew from the start that Joseph was not such a warm and kind person. Most likely, he wanted to stir up his competitive spirit and make him pressure Redwood even more.
That was probably why he had brought up Daniel’s name right off the bat.
“Still, thank you. I don’t think your intention is entirely wrong. It’s true that I should draw inspiration from this wine and devote myself further.”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. And Mr. Warren told me that all of Redwood’s wines this year will be entered in the upcoming San Francisco Chronicle Wine Competition...”
For an instant, Mark’s fingertips trembled slightly. Since Redwood had not entered last year, he had been hoping that perhaps they would not this year either. But if every brand was entered this year, then he would have no choice but to face Redwood in the Pinot Noir category.
“... I see.”
Mark nodded with a stiff face, then raised one corner of his mouth. Joseph’s intention in coming all this way just to scratch at his insides was too transparent, so he couldn’t help saying something.
“Ah, I heard a bit of information myself.”
“Hm? What kind?”
As Joseph looked puzzled, Mark swirled his wineglass and said,
“They say Redwood will soon unveil a new cult-tier wine besides Echelon. I heard it from Warren.”
“I heard that too.”
“Really? Did you hear about its quality too?”
“......?”
“Warren said that when that wine is released, it will probably cause a seismic shift in the Napa Valley Cab market. This year’s San Francisco Chronicle is going to be quite a sight.”
At those words, Joseph’s eyes shook violently.