Ray moved the three pieces of beef arranged in a fan shape in front of him to the side, and reached out to grab the bowl of beans as well.
Seeing this, Glenn casually picked up a piece of garlic bread from the basket, and Doris pushed the salsa back between the two of them.
The large plate thus made a round trip across the long table, and finally returned in front of Satsuki.
The topic also turned back to the grills in the parking lot.
Whose church made the best sauce, which year the Lions Club's rack almost set the parking lot's awning on fire—the few of them interrupted each other, arguing for quite a while without reaching a conclusion.
Satsuki rested her chin in her hand as she listened, occasionally chiming in with a question, while the spoon in her hand never stopped.
By the time only a few charred edges were left on the plate, that bowl of pinquito beans was also empty.
The sun sank a little lower once more.
The copper hue on the surface of the sea slowly darkened, and the water near the shore had already turned deep blue.
Bud took a sip of water.
Probably emboldened by that bowl of beans just now, he looked at the bay outside the railing, assuming the posture of a chamber of commerce president.
"Miss Saionji, let me be honest with you. This bay, put across the entire California, is quite presentable."
"To the north is Big Sur, to the south is Santa Barbara. Who hasn't heard of these two places?"
"But if you ask me, our beach here is not a bit inferior to them. As for the seawater—it's even cleaner, I can guarantee that."
He spread his hands and chuckled first.
"The only trouble is that nobody knows us. Guess how much Santa Barbara spends on advertising in travel magazines a year? Good lord, more than our chamber of commerce's entire annual budget."
"Last year, a few of us pooled some money to put out an issue, and when it was printed, it was just this tiny square."
He used his thumb and forefinger to frame a stamp-sized square, and raised his chin toward Doris.
"If you don't believe me, ask her."
Doris put down her fork and nodded solemnly.
"And it was printed on the very last page, right next to the classified ads for used RVs."
Satsuki smiled and looked over in the direction of Bud's gaze.
The curve of the bay was very long.
Looking north from the restaurant here, one could see the shadow of the distant headland and the scattered lights lit up around the harbor area.
Several fishing boats had already docked, their masts standing one by one in the twilight.
"It really is quite pretty."
She watched for a moment, then casually asked:
"By the way, Mr. Eden, how is the water depth around here?"
Eden was lowering his head to cut the steak on his plate, and raised his head upon hearing this.
"Are you thinking of going out to sea?"
"Mm... A little bit, too."
Satsuki looked at the bay and thought for a moment.
"However, I was just thinking, such a large bay, if a port could be built here, it wouldn't seem bad either."
The noise on the terrace suddenly died down.
Bud was holding his water cup, hanging suspended in mid-air. He never expected that he was just introducing the beach here, and somehow the topic had reached a port.
Doris put down her fork.
Eden reacted the fastest.
He laid his knife and fork on the edge of the plate, leaned forward slightly, and his eyes lit up all at once.
"Miss Saionji, I have looked into this question."
"That section to the north is close to the base. The Army once did a hydrographic survey there, and I have a copy of the data on hand."
"The existing pier of the port, it is said that even aircraft carriers can—"
"Alright then."
Satsuki interrupted him with a smile.
"Let's talk about these tomorrow."
She picked up her knife and fork again and cut the last piece of steak on her plate in half.
"Let's eat first today."
Eden stopped abruptly, smiled as well, and picked up his knife and fork again.
Bud and Doris exchanged glances, and neither spoke.
Just as Satsuki slipped the last piece of steak into her mouth, the resort's front desk manager appeared at the terrace entrance.
He spoke in a low voice to the person stationed there. That person nodded, walked quickly behind Chizuru, and leaned over to say something.
Chizuru turned her head and said something in Japanese to Satsuki.
Satsuki put down her knife and fork, wiped the corners of her mouth with a napkin, and stood up.
"There's a phone call from Tokyo, please excuse me for a moment."
Ray quickly stood up along with her.
"Please go ahead."
Chizuru followed behind her into the restaurant, and the person stationed at the entrance followed inside as well, leaving only the one by the steps standing in place.
As soon as the glass door closed, Bud leaned his body toward the center of the table.
"A port?"
He lowered his voice and glanced toward the steps.
"I chat with her about the beach, and she chats with me about a port?"
"I thought when she asked about the water depth, she wanted to take a yacht out for a spin."
Doris also softened her voice, tapping her fork lightly against the edge of the plate.
Glenn turned his head to look at Eden.
"Thomas, what does she want a port for? Isn't her family in department stores and banks?"
Eden was holding his water cup and almost choked upon hearing this.
He put down the cup and stared at Glenn for several seconds, as if confirming whether the other was joking with him.
"Ahem... Department stores and banks? Are you serious?"
"Glenn, didn't you and the others watch TV in the conference room the day before yesterday? Salomon Brothers, that Salomon on Wall Street, she is a major shareholder."
"Those shut-down oil fields in Midland, Texas, she has bought them up piece by piece over the past two years. Manhattan has twenty office buildings that she bought in bulk from the Resolution Trust Corporation. Cisco, Qualcomm, she has shares in all of them."
He counted down on his fingers, gave up halfway through, and simply spread his hands.
"Good lord, back during the Gulf War, among the contractors who shipped supplies and built fortifications for our GIs, one of them was hers."
Glenn kept his mouth open, unable to close it for a long time.
"And that's just here in the United States. Japan's side is even more outrageous: construction, real estate, trading companies, farms, food—everything."
Eden lowered his voice, but his tone grew more and more urgent.
To think he had run around for so long, yet his companion still hadn't figured out how heavy her weight really was.
"Why do you think I had to run all the way to New York to find her? When others come to invest, they open a factory here. If she comes, she alone can prop up an entire set of things."
"Take ships, for example."
Eden glanced toward the glass door, turned back, and stretched out a finger to draw a line on the tablecloth from left to right.
"Saionji Shipping's cargo ships run all the way from Yokohama to Long Beach, to Oakland. On this Pacific Ocean route, you have their ships all year round."
"If she really invests money here, sooner or later she'll have to build a dock that can accommodate cargo ships. Those old docks at the base can be modified to park yachts, but they can't hold those big guys."
Bud opened his mouth.
"A dock..."
"Bud, you figure it out."
Eden leaned forward again, his voice lowered very much, but his eyes were as bright as before.
"Stevedores, crane drivers, freight truck drivers, plus warehouses, customs brokers, shipyards. A decent freight dock means hundreds of rice bowls to say the least."
"Even if Saionji builds nothing else, just this single dock alone can feed the entire town."
"Then the houses in town—"
Doris subconsciously took the second half of the sentence, then swallowed it back herself.
Glenn made no secret of it, tapping his finger on the tabletop.
"And the county taxes."
"And my chamber of commerce members."
Bud muttered a sentence, and laughed to himself first after finishing.
Ray had not spoken all along, and only now put down the cup in his hand.
"Yet after saying that sentence, she just went right back to eating her steak."
The table fell silent for a moment.
Bud leaned back against the back of his chair and let out a long breath.
"Good lord, Ray. That's because to her, this was just idle talk at the dinner table."
After ten minutes or so, the glass door was pushed open again.
Satsuki returned to her seat, her expression no different from when she went out, and as soon as she sat down, she asked the waiter what the dessert was.
The topic at the table had long since changed, from the award-winning potatoes from Doris's classmate's family to the forty-year-old barbershop in town, and no one mentioned the port again.
After dessert, the waiter brought coffee and tea again. The few of them chatted idly for quite a while amidst the sea breeze.
By the end of dinner, the sky had grown completely dark.
Only a few lamps were left on the terrace. The waiter came over to clear the table and asked if another round of coffee was wanted.
Satsuki shook her head, however, and looked at the darkened sea outside.
"It's still early for bed."
She turned her head and looked at the people around the table.
"There is an open space in front of the house where I'm staying, facing the sea. If everyone isn't in a hurry to go back, would you like to come over and sit for a while?"
Several people were stunned for a moment.
Ray was the first to react: "Of course, as long as it doesn't disturb your rest."
...
Satsuki was staying in the independent small building closest to the sea at the resort.
In front of the building was a platform paved with wooden boards, furnished with a few rattan chairs and a low table; a few steps down led directly to the beach.
Chizuru went ahead first and turned on the lights on the platform. The person who had originally guarded the terrace entrance also walked over to the entrance of the path leading to the small building and stood still.
Ray walked at the very back.
He was carrying a paper bag in his hand.
Inside the paper bag was a bottle of wine.
A few years ago, Winslow's winery produced a batch of wine he was most proud of, amounting to only a few cases in total.
One time Ray ran an errand to the state water resources bureau for him and processed a water intake permit that had been delayed for two years. The old man didn't say a thing, and shoved this bottle of wine into his hand the next day.
"Don't give it away to others, and don't drink it casually." Winslow instructed at the time, "Keep it, and open it when there is a truly worthy matter."
Then this bottle of wine had been sitting in his cabinet at home for over three years.
Before going out today, he hesitated for a bit, but still brought it along.
He had originally intended to open it during dinner.
But after arriving at the restaurant and sitting down, he remembered that the newspaper had published this Eldest Miss's age.
Eighteen years old.
In Japan, it seemed one had to be twenty to drink, and local California law also required one to be twenty-one to drink.
So in order to comply with local and foreign laws, this bottle of wine sat by his feet for an entire meal, and he never touched it.
Upon reaching the platform, he leaned the paper bag against the leg of his rattan chair, and just as he was about to sit down, Satsuki's gaze fell over.
"Mr. Mendoza, what is that you've been carrying all the way from the restaurant?"
Ray was startled for a moment, and had no choice but to pick up the paper bag and take the bottle of wine out from inside.
"A bottle of local wine. I originally wanted to open it during dinner."
He touched the back of his neck and smiled with a bit of embarrassment.
"Then I remembered that you are eighteen this year. In California, you have to be twenty-one to touch this stuff, and I wouldn't dare pour it for you in the restaurant."
"So you carried it all the way like this?"
"...Yes."
Satsuki smiled and tilted her head.
"What a pity. Everyone has kept me company for so long tonight, surely you can't be made to carry it back the exact same way just because of me?"
"You all go ahead and drink, I'll have sparkling water."
She turned and said something in Japanese to Chizuru. Chizuru got up and entered the small building, and before long, came out carrying several wine glasses and a bottle of sparkling water.
Bud glanced over and recognized the wine label instantly.
"Is that Winslow's?"
"Mhm."
Bud looked at the bottle of wine with an incredulous expression.
"That old man actually had the heart to give you his wine? Last time I went to his house, what he gave me to drink was stuff bought from the supermarket."
"Because last time you drank up the best bottle in his winery." Doris sat down in a rattan chair and said slowly.
Bud gave a dry cough.
"That was him telling me to take whatever I wanted."
"He said to take a glass."
Bud didn't argue further, just rubbed his nose, turned his head, and gave a wry smile at Satsuki.
"Don't listen to her, Miss Saionji. That day was Winslow's sixtieth birthday, and everyone had too much to drink."
Ray pulled the cork, poured a glass each for Bud, Doris, Glenn, and Eden, and poured one for himself.
In front of Satsuki was the glass of sparkling water Chizuru had poured for her.
"Winslow is the chairman of the county board of supervisors."
Ray explained to Satsuki while pouring.
"Half of the vineyards around these parts have some connection to his family."
"This bottle is their eighty-five vintage, which he himself calls the best batch he's ever brewed in his life."
"Later I went and asked people who know their stuff. They said it wasn't that good."
"But it's not bad either."
Satsuki listened very attentively, her gaze falling on the newly poured glass in Bud's hand.
"Then how does it compare to Bordeaux?"
Ray's hand paused while pouring the wine.
"I ordered some eighty-nine futures over there a while ago, Latour, Margaux, and Mouton. Unfortunately, they won't arrive until next year, so I can't say what they taste like right now."
Bud blinked.
"Futures?"
"It's buying the wine beforehand while it's still in the barrels."
Doris took over the conversation, turning back to Satsuki with a bit more curiosity in her tone.
"Miss Saionji, when you say some, roughly how much is that?"
Satsuki thought for a moment.
"About thirty percent of each estate's quota for that year, I suppose."
Doris's hand holding the cup paused in mid-air, the corners of her mouth twitching.
Bud looked left and right.
"How much is thirty percent?"
Doris put her cup back on the table and lowered her voice.
"Bud, I have a client in San Francisco who waited in line for a full two years just for a case of eighty-two Latour."
"What she meant just now is that of the wine sold by those three wineries that year, roughly every one out of three bottles belongs to her."
Bud shut his mouth.