One evening in late August, Woody was sitting alone on a chair in the yard of the Redwood family home.
He had come to the United States fifteen days ago. He had to help with the wedding preparations, and more than anything, he wanted to make up for all the time he had spent living apart from his family in Japan. He had left the Japanese branch in Director Hirose’s hands for the time being. Normally, being away for more than a month would have felt burdensome, but this time he had the justification of the wedding.
A few messages from Japanese clients had piled up, so he picked up his phone, only to set it back down again. They were things he could answer tomorrow. Since the head office was in Tokyo, he naturally spent nine or ten months of the year in Japan. He had to, if he wanted to take care of his clients.
When his son wanted to start a business distributing the wines made at his winery in Japan and Korea, Woody had founded Redwood Holdings Asia. At first, he had been pleased to be able to do the business he wanted as much as he liked. Perhaps because he had experienced failure before, he had been able to prepare more thoroughly and manage people better.
As time passed, all sorts of cutting-edge devices came out, which made things even better. On top of that, Japan had many similarities to Korea, and there was no racial discrimination; it was safe, too, so he liked it all the more. But that did not mean everything was good.
It was because he lived apart from his family. After repeating a life of stopping by the United States two or three times a year, staying for a few days, and then leaving, his son had, in the meantime, received the highest evaluation in the world for his Cabernet Sauvignon and reached a level where he could stand shoulder to shoulder with the five First Growth châteaux of Bordeaux. And Woody had watched all those moments from Japan, through the news.
Just then, his wife came out into the yard. She had been finishing up dinner preparations in the kitchen.
“Honey, why are you sitting out here alone?”
“Just… wanted to get some air.”
His wife sat down in the chair beside him. She was the person who had been with Woody his entire life. When his business failed in Korea, when they immigrated to America as if fleeing, and when he resolved to establish a base in Japan again, she had always been by his side.
“I guess Wooseok is working late in the fermentation room again.”
“Yeah. I suppose that’s only natural. It’s his work, after all.”
“He’s taking good care of Chloe, too. A few days ago, we made Korean food together, and she was really trying hard to learn.”
He thought his son must have had an astonishing eye for choosing women. Just like himself.
“Honey, dinner’s ready. Let’s go in.”
“Shall we?”
He rose from his seat and followed his wife inside.
It was a Korean-style dinner his wife had made. Braised short ribs, japchae, kimchi, and soybean paste stew. Even though it was difficult to get Korean ingredients in America, his wife always managed somehow to put Korean food on the table. She had been that way ever since they immigrated from Korea to the United States.
Brian came in late from the fermentation room and sat down to eat with them. Chloe joined them as well, and the four of them sat around the dining table.
“What did you do in the fermentation room today?”
His son picked up his spoon in front of his mother’s food and said,
“The final整理 of the Castello fermentation curve. I need to finish it by mid-September.”
“You’re busy.”
“Yes.”
As the meal went on, Woody quietly looked around the table. His wife, his son, his daughter-in-law. The sight of the three of them conversing naturally brought a strange pleasure to Woody’s heart.
And yet, oddly enough, even though he himself was sitting with them, he felt somehow like a guest. It felt as if Woody were someone who had stopped by for a few days in the daily life his wife, son, and daughter-in-law shared every day.
In truth, if he thought about it, that was exactly the case. As soon as things with the Japanese clients were settled, he would have to return to Tokyo. There was still some time before the wedding, so he could stay longer this time, but once the wedding was over, it would be Japan again.
He quietly put a piece of braised short rib in his mouth, and his wife’s familiar touch was there exactly as he remembered it. Wasn’t this the taste he always missed in Tokyo?
‘To think I have to go back to Japan again after this…’
For no reason, the taste in his mouth turned bitter.
The next evening, as it neared dusk, he headed to Dare Ridge Country Club. Frederick had invited Woody to the club lounge. It was the first time the two in-laws had met alone. With the wedding preparations beginning in earnest, it had been a subtle agreement between the two families that it would be good for the two elders to sit down together once.
Frederick placed a bottle of wine he had personally brought from his cellar on the table.
“Château Pichon Lalande, 1995. I’ve been saving it to drink with someone like you, Mr. Woody.”
“Something this precious…”
“What meaning does it have unless we drink it together? Hahaha!”
The two men clinked their glasses. Outside the lounge window, the evening scenery of the Dare Ridge golf course spread out before them. It was a picturesque scene, rich and peaceful.
At first, they began with light conversation. The wedding preparations, the schedules of both families, the Big Island of Hawaii as the honeymoon destination…
Then, naturally, the conversation flowed into stories of life. Frederick was still in his mid-fifties, while Woody was a businessman just entering his sixties, and both were men accustomed to unraveling their life stories one sentence at a time.
“I was in the general goods trading business in Korea, and it failed. After I settled all the debts, I did still have some money left in my hands, but I just wanted to leave Korea. It had become too hard to stay there any longer. I suppose it was mentally difficult for me. In any case, that was how I brought my family and immigrated to America. Brian was fifteen then, I think? Something like that. When we first came to America, I was out of my mind for a while. My English was clumsy, and I had no confidence to start a business again. All I could think of was working hard at a grape farm.”
“You went through a lot.”
“It was only a few years, at most. I was lucky, in my own way. Brian was so smart.”
Woody took a sip of wine and continued.
“A few years ago, Brian suggested I try the wine distribution business. He knew, you see. That his father wanted to do business. I was truly grateful. So I created Redwood Holdings Asia.”
“It was a good choice. Your son’s wine is being recognized greatly all over the world, so there could be no better business item.”
“That’s true. But… living apart from my family all the time has been a bit…”
Perhaps understanding his feelings, Frederick nodded and said,
“Mr. Woody, I’ve never left this town in my life. I was born in the Brentwood area, inherited my father’s farm, ran it, and then thanks to Brian’s advice, I started an almond farm as well.”
“Haha, I envy you.”
“More than anything else, I think the truly good part is working together with family. Cherry is something my daughter is already doing very well, and seeing how well the pear farm is doing too, I think Chloe really met the right man in Brian. When we wake up in the morning, I, my daughter, and my son all head out to our respective farms, then come back in the evening. When we eat dinner together, I feel like I’ve lived a successful life.”
Woody, who had been listening, nodded. There was a faint tension in the fingers turning his wineglass.
“…I envy a life like that.”
Seeing the deeply forlorn expression on his future in-law’s face, Frederick gently suggested,
“If you’re that lonely, Mr. Woody, why not start a business here in America? Beside your family.”
“Beside my family? But the wine distribution business is already tied up with Redwood…”
“There’s no reason it has to be wine distribution, is there? Brian’s agricultural knowledge is outstanding, so you could farm, too.”
In Korea, one could not easily suggest that someone take up farming, but perhaps because this was America, Frederick readily recommended it. Unlike Korean-style farming, where one had to do everything personally, farming in America was closer to corporate farming, so if one had capital, there was nothing one could not do. The actual work was all done by laborers.
But Woody briefly waved his hand.
“Farming? Goodness, I’m a businessman, not a farmer. I don’t have specialized knowledge like you, Mr. Frederick. All my life I’ve only been good at taking orders and building clients. Farming is really…”
“You’ve done it before, haven’t you?”
“……”
“Specialized knowledge is something you can learn.”
“I didn’t know anything at first either. And needless to say, neither did Chloe. She probably learned more from Brian than I did. When I started almonds, I studied with books open and learned one thing at a time from Brian. Well, to be honest, there are plenty of people farming without specialized knowledge… Most of the people farming cherries in Brentwood are probably just farming the way they’ve always done it rather than using agronomic knowledge.”
“…Do you think so?”
“Of course! What is there that a businessman like you couldn’t do when it comes to farming? Business is ultimately about making clients and building systems, isn’t it? Farming is the same.”
Woody, who had been listening, silently nodded. Each and every one of Frederick’s words continued to circle in his head.
The next morning.
His wife was preparing breakfast in the kitchen when Woody entered and casually said,
“Should I just stay in America?”
His wife stopped what she was doing for a moment and looked at him.
“Suddenly? What about Redwood Holdings?”
“Well… I can leave it to professional managers and go check on it from time to time.”
“If that works, we’d be happy. But considering that business disease of yours, will you be all right? You’ll definitely get restless.”
“That’s why I’m thinking of trying a business in America.”
His wife’s gaze changed subtly.
“You know you can’t just spend the money your son earned, right?”
“Of course I know.”
“Then I suppose you know you shouldn’t do a business you don’t understand well, either?”
“Of course.”
“Really? Then what are you going to do?”
“I’m thinking about it…”
Since he had said he would not do something he did not know well, and that he knew he could not just spend money recklessly, his wife let go of her worries and shrugged.
“All right, think it over then.”
“…Okay.”
After receiving that half-permission from his wife, he sought out an Agricultural Real Estate Brokerage in Napa.
“Welcome. Your name is…?”
“Woody Choi.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Jack Morrison. This way…”
Jack Morrison, a man who looked to be in his mid-fifties, guided Woody to the inside of the office.
“Did you come with a specific category in mind?”
“I’m open to options. My son does run a winery, though…”
“A winery? Which one…?”
In California, saying you ran a winery usually meant, first of all, that the other party had quite a lot of money. And depending on the winery, the scale could differ like heaven and earth, so he had to ask.
“I don’t know if you’ve heard of Redwood…”
“Of course I have!”
His eyes immediately curved into arcs. He was certain that the client was a heavyweight.
“If an agricultural broker working in Napa said he didn’t know Redwood, wouldn’t it be only right for him to quit the business? But you’re excluding vineyards?”
“It’s because I’ll be the one farming. Not my son.”
“Ah… If you’re family, I can certainly understand that. Then the funds…?”
“Could I see the listings first?”
Seeing that Woody did not swagger around just because he had money, but approached the matter cautiously, Jack became even more convinced that the other party was no fraud.
“Of course. I’ll show you right away.”
Jack spread several documents across the desk.
“This is an olive farm in Sonoma County, 120 acres.”
Woody tried to think whether olives had a good future, but soon furrowed his brow. He had heard that, on his son’s advice, Mr. Frederick had sold off his olive farm and bought an almond farm.
“This is a bit… Do you have anything else?”
After that, Jack presented several other listings. Tomatoes, cherries, almonds… Somehow, they were all things that people around him were doing or had done, so none of them appealed to him readily. At the very least, he wanted to try something a little different from others, and that seemed to come from the unavoidable adventurous streak he possessed.
Since Woody made a negative expression at every single thing he said, Jack also grew frustrated and asked cautiously,
“Mr. Woody, if you have sufficient funds, there is one listing… but the price is rather high. Would you still like to hear about it?”
“Yes, please show me.”
Then Jack placed a thick file on the desk. The photo on the cover was an aerial shot of a farm somewhere in Southern California. Dark green trees had been planted in rows along the ridges.
“It’s an avocado farm in Ventura County, Southern California. About 300 acres, and it’s a thirty-year-old farm. The owner is in his late seventies, and none of his children want to take over the farming, so he decided to sell.”
“What’s the sale price?”
“Twelve million dollars.”
Even for Woody, who had some money, this was not an easy amount.
“It certainly is expensive.”
“Yes. That’s why it’s a difficult listing to recommend to ordinary buyers. But the location is truly excellent. Ventura is the main avocado-producing region in California. It’s a thirty-year-old farm, so all the trees are fully established, and it produces a stable harvest every year. The owner has managed it personally, so the soil condition is very good as well.”
Jack paused to catch his breath, then added one more thing.
“To be honest, avocados have been becoming increasingly popular in America lately. Even five years ago, you only saw them in some Mexican markets, but now they’re taking their place in regular supermarkets too, and menus like avocado toast are starting to appear in California cafés. Looking at it long-term, it’s not a bad investment.”
Woody picked up the documents and stared at them for a long while.
Three hundred acres. A thirty-year-old farm. Twelve million dollars. His thoughts only grew deeper. But there was only one conclusion.
‘Let’s ask my son!’