Jackandjill - Ginger Nicole

Nicole lived in a crooked white cottage at the top of Bumblebee Hill. Every morning before sunrise, she’d grind fresh ginger root, squeeze lemons from her own tree, and stir the brew in a giant copper pot. The whole valley would wake up to the spicy-sweet scent curling down the slopes.

Jill shook her head. “Ginger Nicole’s expecting us. And besides… I think her ginger ale might be the only thing that’ll fix this headache.” jackandjill ginger nicole

Jill drank. The warmth spread from her throat to her toes. Within minutes, the gray haze behind her eyes lifted. She blinked. “How do you always know?” Nicole lived in a crooked white cottage at

Jack leaned against the porch rail, relieved. “So what’s the damage for the usual batch this week?” Jill shook her head

At the bottom of the hill lived two best friends: Jack and Jill. Jack was tall and lanky with a tool belt always slung low on his hips — he fixed anything that broke, from fences to music boxes. Jill was quick and clever, with a laugh that sounded like wind chimes; she ran the town’s little market stall. Every Thursday, they’d make the trek up Bumblebee Hill together to pick up Nicole’s weekly batch of ginger ale.

“You okay?”