Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz are perhaps one of the most famous couples in television history. Their romance continued off-screen as well. Their marriage was famously tumultuous, and no one knows that better than their daughter Lucie Arnaz.
Keep reading to know more about their daughter and how her life turned out over the years.

Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz were perhaps the most beloved couple on American television at one time. Their show I Love Lucy depicted them as the Ricardos, a middle-class couple that were the ideal nuclear family.
The show had six seasons and ran from 1951 to 1957. It followed Lucille as Lucy Ricardo, a housewife who always gets into hilarious situations. While the couple seemed perfect in their on-screen depiction, in real life, their relationship was quite volatile.
The former Broadway star and the Cuban bandleader met while filming Too Many Girls. Their whirlwind six-month romance led to an elopement and marriage in November 1940.

After over a decade of their marriage, the couple became parents to daughter Lucie Arnaz, born on July 17, 1951. Two years after that, on January 19, 1953, they became parents to their second child, their son Desi Arnaz Jr.
The two children joined their parents in the family business of acting. They starred alongside their mother in the spin-off shows for I Love Lucy. Then in May 1961, after nearly two decades together, the couple filed for divorce.
It took years for Lucie Arnaz to open up about the reality of her parents’ marriage and their subsequent divorce. She revealed in a 2018 interview how “They were fighting all the time when we were growing up. There was a lot of anger and screaming.”
She lamented at her childhood where she had to deal with so many issues, she said, “Their divorce was horrible. And then there was the alcoholism. I had preferred those things had never been there. We didn’t have any abuse, but we did go through some pretty hard stuff, and that’s why my parents didn’t stay together. “
Lucille felt the split even more than perhaps her husband because she felt she had shattered the perception the American public had of her. She remarried soon after to comedian Gary Morton.
In her early twenties in 1971, Lucie Arnaz tied the knot to “The Doctors” actor Philip Vandervort Menegaux. The marriage ended in divorce five years later

But the younger Arnaz’s second try at marriage was much more lasting. She met and married actor and writer Laurence Luckinbill. Now the couple has been together for over four decades.
On June 22, 2023, Lucie celebrated her 43rd wedding anniversary with Luckinbill. She took to Instagram to remember the day many decades ago that she was last single on an apple farm in the coastal city of Kingston, New York.
Their friends and family arrived at the venue in a “big yellow school bus.” She was wearing a “lovely cream crocheted gown” as her father walked her down the aisle. She continued in her post, “…[I] vowed to love Laurence Luckinbill till death us do part. 15,695 days, 5 kids, and three grandchildren later, I am proud to still say,’‘ I do.’”
The Murder, She Wrote actress is still very much in love with her husband. She dedicated a sweet post to him on his 88th birthday late last year in November 2022. She posted a picture of him and wrote how he was “kind, talented, adorable, wise, [and] sexy.”
Luckinbill had two children from a previous marriage; Nicholas Luckinbill and Benjamin Luckinbill. And him and Lucie had three more children together; two sons and a daughter.
Their first child together Simon Thomas Luckinbill was born in December 1980, Joseph Henry Luckinbill was born on New Year’s Eve 1982, and their daughter Katharine Desirée Luckinbill was born on January 11, 1985.
Lucie Arnaz and her husband live in Palm Springs, and their family lives nearby. These days the actress wears her hair in a short pixie cut and spends her time with her beloved grandchildren.
On Grandparents Day in 2019, Arnaz joked about hitting the “jackpot” when the couple welcomed their first two grandchildren just four weeks apart from one another. Since then, they have welcomed many more grandchildren to their brood.
Lucie has been a second-generation actor. She was only 11 years old when she starred alongside her mother in The Lucy Show at 11 opposite her mother, which they then followed up with Here’s Lucy.
She also played the main character in the television movie Who Is the Black Dahlia? and also led in the short-lived comedy The Lucie Arnaz Show in 1985 as psychologist Dr. Jane Lucas.
She has played other roles in guest starring parts in shows such as, Marcus Welby, M.D., Murder, She Wrote, Fantasy Island, Law & Order, and the reboot of Will & Grace.
She has also been credited as a producer in three stories related to her parents. Lucy and Desi: A Home Movie, I Love Lucy’s 50th Anniversary Special, and Being the Ricardos. She also produced the 2003 documentary The Desilu Story.
In June 2023 she revealed that she will be doing an encore of her cabaret act titled I Got The Job! Songs From My Musical Past, at 54 Below in New York City. She had performed the show before the pandemic to a sold-out crowd.
While Lucie is very public about her life, her little brother Desi Arnaz Jr. is quite private about his. When Lucille Ball was pregnant with Arnaz Jr, her pregnancy was written into the show. And as fate would have it, she gave birth to him the same day the episode aired in which her character gave birth to ‘Little Ricky.’

As a Mother of Two, I Dreamed of Adopting a Third Until My MIL Forced Me to Leave Home with My Kids — Story of the Day

I thought adopting a child would complete our family, but nothing prepared me for the challenges that followed. Just when everything seemed to fall apart, an unexpected turn changed our lives forever.
Recently, my husband Mark and I unanimously decided to adopt a child. It wasn’t a decision we made lightly, but it felt deeply right. Our home had love to spare, and I knew our family had room for one more soul.
Emily and Jacob, our two beloved children, caught on to our excitement right away. They were chattering about their “new sister” every day.

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“Do you think she likes soccer?” Jacob asked as he kicked a ball around the yard.
Emily rolled her eyes. “She probably likes dolls, Jacob. She’s six, not a boy.”
“She can like both,” I interjected with a laugh, loving their playful banter.
Earlier that day, Mark and I met Evie for the first time. A petite six-year-old with chestnut hair and solemn eyes, she held a worn teddy bear tightly, like it was her lifeline.
“She’s beautiful,” I whispered to Mark as we left the meeting.

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“She’s got a kind soul. You can just tell.”
The warmth of that moment lingered, and I held onto it as we returned home. I couldn’t wait to see her playing with Emily and Jacob, laughing around the dinner table. Everything felt perfect until the family dinner with my MIL, Barbara.
It began innocently enough. Barbara passed me the salad bowl, chatting about the neighbor’s new puppy. Then, her tone shifted.

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“So,” she began, eyeing Mark, “I hear you two are thinking about adopting.”
I smiled, setting my fork down. “We are. Her name is Evie. She’s six…”
“Someone else’s child?” Barbara interrupted, her voice sharp. She glanced between us, her expression unreadable. “You’re serious?”
“Of course we are,” Mark said, but his voice lacked conviction. My heart sank.

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Barbara leaned back in her chair. “I just don’t see how a stranger can ever truly be part of this family. Blood ties are what keep us together. Not some orphan.”
The room fell silent. Emily and Jacob, usually giggling through dinner, froze in their seats. My hands tightened around my napkin, but I forced myself to stay calm.
“Family isn’t about blood,” I said firmly. “It’s about love and commitment.”

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Barbara shrugged. “That’s easy to say, Sarah, but I’ve seen it fail. I just think you should consider the consequences.”
“Mom,” Mark said quietly, “we’ve already made our decision.”
Her sharp gaze turned to him. “Have you? Because it doesn’t sound like you’re entirely sure.”
I glanced at Mark, hoping he’d respond, but he just stared down at his plate. The silence was deafening.
That night, Mark was distant. He didn’t join Emily and Jacob for their bedtime story. Instead, he wandered the house, his footsteps heavy.

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“Mark?” I called softly from the living room. “Are you okay?”
“I just… I don’t know, Sarah. Maybe Mom has a point. What if this is too much for us?”
I stepped closer. “Mark, you were so sure before. What’s changed?”
He rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know. I need time to think.”
I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. As I went upstairs to check on the kids, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Barbara’s words had planted a dangerous seed of doubt in Mark’s heart.

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***
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the windows, but the brightness only highlighted the heavy mood in the house. The day we had been waiting for—the day we were supposed to bring Evie home—was here. But instead of excitement, a cold tension hung in the air.
Mark stood by the front door, arms crossed, his face unreadable. I approached him with a smile, clutching the list of things I had prepared for Evie’s arrival. But his words stopped me cold.
“I’ve changed my mind, Sarah. I don’t want to go through with this.”

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“What?” I whispered, my voice trembling. “What are you saying?”
“I just don’t think it’s the right decision. I can’t do this.”
For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. The betrayal stung, sharp and deep, but as the silence stretched between us, something inside me shifted. A clarity I hadn’t felt before settled over me.
“You might have changed your mind,” I said slowly, “but I haven’t. Evie is waiting for us, Mark. She’s been promised a family, and I can’t let her down.”

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“You’re being irrational,” he said, his voice rising. “You’re dragging the kids into this. You’re making a mistake!”
I didn’t respond. Instead, I turned, grabbed my keys, and began packing a bag for myself and the children. Emily and Jacob watched me quietly, their eyes wide, sensing the tension but saying nothing.
Minutes later, I was buckling them into the car as Mark stood on the porch, shouting something about how I was taking his children away. I didn’t look back. My heart was set.

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The only place I could think to go was my late mother’s house—a small, run-down property that had been sitting empty for years. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a beginning. And for Evie, I would make it work.
***
The first floor was livable after hours of scrubbing, sweeping, and airing out the musty rooms. It was enough for the first time. I focused on turning the space into a cozy retreat for us.
“Mom, what are you doing up there?” Jacob called from the living room as I carried an old mop and bucket to the second floor.

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“Just a little magic,” I replied, peeking my head over the banister with a smile. “You’ll see when it’s done.”
“Can we help?” Emily’s voice chimed in.
I shook my head gently. “Not this time, sweetie. Why don’t you and Jacob show Evie how to play hide and seek? I bet she’s never played it with such great hiders before.”
Emily immediately turned to Evie, who sat quietly on the couch, clutching her stuffed bear. “Come on, Evie! I’ll even let you hide first.”

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“Yeah, but don’t pick my spot,” Jacob teased, puffing his chest dramatically. “I’ve got the best hiding places in the whole house.”
Evie looked up at them hesitantly, her small hands gripping the bear tighter. “I… I don’t know,” she murmured.
Emily crouched beside her. “It’s really fun. I’ll hide with you the first time if you want. We can be a team.”
A tiny smile flickered across Evie’s face. “Okay.”

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“That’s the spirit!” Jacob whooped, already darting toward the hallway. “Let’s see if Mom can find us when she’s done building her tower upstairs!”
I chuckled at his imagination as I climbed to the second floor. From above, I could hear their giggles and footsteps as they dashed around.
Emily’s voice called out playful instructions, and Evie’s laughter finally joined theirs. It was a sound I was holding my breath to hear.

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Hours later, after the kids had worn themselves out and fallen asleep after pizza, I stood in the dimly lit kitchen, warming my hands with a mug of tea. The day went better than I’d hoped. Evie had played, smiled, and even laughed. She began to trust us.
I tiptoed into my room, careful not to wake the children. As I sank onto the bed, the tears came, hot and unrelenting.
Mark’s absence felt like a shadow over everything. I stared at the cracks in the ceiling, whispering to myself in the darkness.

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“Am I doing this right? Is this enough?”
In those moments of doubt, I turned to social media as a way to cope. It started simply—a few posts sharing the highs and lows of adjusting to our new life, more for myself than anyone else.
Writing helped me process my thoughts, giving my feelings a place to land. But something unexpected happened.
Strangers, mostly mothers, began commenting on my posts. They shared their own stories, offered advice, and sent words of encouragement.

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“You’re doing an amazing thing,” one woman wrote.
“Stay strong. It’s hard, but it’s worth it,” said another.
The messages poured in, and then, people started showing up in real life.
It started with a knock at the door one morning. When I opened it, a woman stood there with a basket of groceries.
“I read your post,” she said with a kind smile. “I just wanted to help.”

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Another day, a man arrived with a toolbox in hand. “I heard about your house. Mind if I fix that front step? It’s a little wobbly.”
Soon, our little house was buzzing with activity. People brought toys for the kids, blankets to keep us warm, and even fresh paint to brighten the walls. I wasn’t alone.
After several active days and fewer tearful nights, Mark finally wrote. He wanted to meet.

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***
The hum of a car pulling into the driveway broke the afternoon stillness. My heart skipped as I set down the laundry basket and peeked through the curtain.
Mark stepped out, his shoulders slumped, his face lined with exhaustion. He wasn’t the same man who had walked away weeks ago. I met him at the door, unsure what to say.
“I’m ashamed of myself, Sarah,” he said. “Ashamed of how I let my mother’s fears control me. Ashamed of leaving you to carry this burden alone. You did what I should’ve done. You didn’t give up.”

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“I didn’t have a choice, Mark,” I said quietly. “Evie needed us. She still does.”
He nodded, his eyes meeting mine for the first time. “I know. And I’m here now. I want to make this right.”
Forgiveness didn’t need to be spoken. It was in the way he rolled up his sleeves and got to work the very next day.
Together, we finished the repairs on the house. Mark worked tirelessly, fixing the roof and building sturdy shelves while I painted and organized.

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Evie’s laughter rang through the halls as Emily and Jacob pulled her into their games. For the first time in weeks, the house felt alive.
A few weeks later, Barbara visited. She didn’t say much, but I watched her hand Evie a small brooch, something she treasured. I saw her walls begin to crumble.
When the house was complete, Mark and I sat together on the porch, looking out at the yard where the kids played.

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Suddenly Mark turned to me. “What if we turned this place into a foster home? A real one. A safe haven for kids who need a family, even if it’s just for a little while.”
“Mark, that’s… that’s an incredible idea.”
He squeezed my hand. “Then let’s do it. Together.”
We both knew that family wasn’t about blood. It’s about love, choices, and fighting for the people you care about. And it’s always worth the fight.

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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: I thought faking a fiancé would finally let me step out of my sister’s shadow. But in the middle of my own scheme, I discovered that true love had been closer than I’d ever realized.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.

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