Cheryl the series

She sat on the veranda, a stack of paper, a pen, her MacBook and iPad, all seeming to glare at her as she paged through old journals and diaries. After she had mentioned potentially writing a biography on her twitter account, fans had helpfully tweeted links to various interviews, rumors, theories, and the like and she had dutifully printed out or written down the shorter ones in hopes of jogging her memory but nearly two decades of partying hard in the eighties and nineties left her bereft of most of it, she found.

She glared at the calendar on the table with the nineteenth circled. She was expected to have the first five chapters of her book ready and sent off to her editor, a sweet old man who reminded her greatly of Jim Henson.

The memory of Jim Henson had her sighing and she smiled as she remembered the times working as a puppeteer, actor, and choreographer for him.

She eventually scowled. She wanted to write her life sequentially and had done the first chapter on her childhood. The second had been on her teenage years. The third chapter was on her time on Jim Henson's sets and general Hollywood stuff but she had wanted to do the fourth chapter about her first season on the show she was most well known for. But the partying had removed all of that.

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"So what's your problem?" Cheryl's lunch guest, Nana Visitor, asked as the waiter poured sparkling water for them.

"I don't remember most of the eighties. I flicked through my old scripts and I remember bits and pieces but most of it's gone."

"Ah, the life of excess," Nana teased. "Recently I had to call Alexander and ask him to help me remember something. Why don't you visit all of your costars? Having their points of view in a book could probably be really helpful."

"I could kiss you!"

"Too bad it never happened on set, it would have been so much better than Terry and Susannah's kiss."

Cheryl laughed as she picked up her water goblet.

([{<>}])

Patrick opened the door of his trailer and smiled brightly. "Gates, my dear! Come in, come in!"

He held out his hand to help her up the step then stepped back so she could pass him. She gave him a peck on the cheek then sat after he told her to make herself comfortable.

"Juice, water? Sophia turned me on to this delicious watermelon mint  chocolate infused coconut water stuff."

"I'll try that."

He poured two glasses then sat across from her. "You look wonderful, darling. What brings you to New York?"

"I got an advance on writing my biography and I realized just how little I remember of my time on the show."

"Ah, so you're planning on interviewing all of us?" She nodded. "Wonderful idea."

"I hope so. So I was hoping we could go over some things soon."

"Today—”

A knock on the door and a PA's voice interrupted. "Mister Stewart, you're needed on set in five minutes."

"'—is bad,' as I was going to say but tomorrow I have absolutely nothing to do after my ten AM phone interview. Would that work for you?"

"Perfect."

"I'm staying at the Four Seasons. Collette," he said, tapping his phone.

"Yeah boss?" she replied.

"Call Mickey at the hotel, tell him Cheryl's going to need a room near mine for the next few days."

"On it."

Cheryl finished her drink and they said a quick goodbye then she left.

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Checked into the Four Seasons, Cheryl ended up spending the rest of the day in MOMA, spending hours in front of Jackson Pollock's Full Fathom Five.

She smiled. She had seen photos before but being in front of it was something else.

([{<>}])

"So what do you remember?" Patrick asked as he picked up a strawberry.

"I remember Gene basically begging me to audition then to accept the role. I remember filming the first episode. And that's about it. So why don't you just reminisce?"

"Excellent idea," he said. "The first time I met you was the night where all the cast was meeting over dinner. You had a rather attractive black and gold dress on with an enormously ugly bow on it. I have pictures at home, I think.

"Anyway, we were all having dinner at the most expensive restaurant in town."