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.’

I Didn’t Tell My Husband’s Family I Speak Their Language, and It Helped Me Uncover a Shocking Secret about My Child

I thought I knew everything about my husband—until I overheard a shocking conversation between his mother and sister. When Peter finally confessed the secret he’d been hiding about our first child, my world shattered, and I was left questioning everything we had built together.
Peter and I had been married for three years. We met during a whirlwind summer, and everything just clicked. He was smart, funny, and kind, everything I’d ever wanted. When we found out I was pregnant with our first child a few months later, it felt like fate.

A photo of a happy couple | Source: Pexels
Now, we were expecting our second baby, and our lives seem pretty perfect. But things haven’t been as smooth as they appear.
I’m American, and Peter’s German. At first, the differences between us were exciting. When Peter’s job transferred him back to Germany, we moved there with our first child. I thought it would be a fresh start, but it wasn’t as easy as I’d hoped.

A man packing boxes | Source: Pexels
Germany was beautiful, and Peter was thrilled to be back in his home country. But I struggled. I missed my family and friends. And Peter’s family, well, they were… polite at best. His parents, Ingrid and Klaus, didn’t speak much English, but I understood more German than they realized.
At first, I didn’t mind the language barrier. I thought it would give me time to learn more German and blend in. But then, the comments started.

A successful woman | Source: Pexels
Peter’s family came over often, especially Ingrid and Peter’s sister, Klara. They would sit in the living room, chatting away in German. I’d be in the kitchen or tending to our child, pretending not to notice when their conversation shifted toward me.
“That dress… it doesn’t suit her at all,” Ingrid once said, not bothering to lower her voice.
“She’s gained so much weight with this pregnancy,” Klara added with a smirk.

A smirking woman | Source: Pexels
I’d look down at my swelling belly, my hands automatically smoothing over the fabric. Yes, I was pregnant, and yes, I’d gained weight, but their words still stung. They acted like I couldn’t understand them, and I never let on that I could. I didn’t want to cause a scene, and deep down, I wanted to see how far they’d go.
One afternoon, I overheard something that cut even deeper.

Two gossiping women | Source: Pexels
“She looks tired,” Ingrid remarked, pouring tea as Klara nodded. “I wonder how she’ll manage two children.”
Klara leaned in, lowering her voice a little. “I’m still not sure about that first baby. He doesn’t even look like Peter.”
I froze, standing just out of sight. I felt my stomach drop. They were talking about our son.
Ingrid sighed. “His red hair… it’s not from our side of the family.”
Klara chuckled. “Maybe she didn’t tell Peter everything.”

A chuckling woman | Source: Pexels
They both laughed softly, and I stood there, too stunned to move. How could they say that? I wanted to scream at them, tell them they were wrong, but I stayed quiet, my hands trembling. I didn’t know what to do.
The next visit after our second baby was born was the hardest. I was exhausted, trying to manage a newborn and our toddler. Ingrid and Klara arrived, offering smiles and congratulations, but I could tell something was off. They whispered to each other when they thought I wasn’t looking, and the tension in the air was thick.

Two women gossiping | Source: Pexels
As I sat feeding the baby in the other room, I heard them talking in hushed voices. I leaned closer to the door, listening.
“She still doesn’t know, does she?” Ingrid whispered.
Klara laughed softly. “Of course not. Peter never told her the truth about the first baby.”
My heart skipped a beat. The truth? About our first baby? What were they talking about?

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
I felt my pulse quicken, and a cold wave of fear washed over me. I knew I shouldn’t listen, but I couldn’t help it. What could they mean? I needed to know more, but their voices faded as they moved to another room. I sat there, frozen, my mind racing.
What had Peter not told me? And what was this “truth” about our first child?

A thoughtful woman in her living room | Source: Midjourney
I stood up, my legs shaky, and called Peter into the kitchen. He came in, looking confused. I could barely keep my voice steady.
“Peter,” I whispered, “what is this about our first baby? What haven’t you told me?”
His face turned pale, his eyes widening in panic. For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Then, he sighed heavily and sat down, burying his face in his hands.

A tired man in his kitchen | Source: Pexels
“There’s something you don’t know,” Peter looked up at me, guilt written all over his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated, his eyes darting to the floor. “When you gave birth to our first…” He paused, taking a deep breath. “My family… they pressured me to get a paternity test.”
I stared at him, trying to process what he had just said. “A paternity test?” I repeated slowly, as if saying it out loud would help me understand. “Why? Why would they—?”

A shocked woman in her kitchen | Source: Midjourney
“They thought… the timing was too close to when you ended your last relationship,” he said, his voice breaking. “And the red hair… They said the baby couldn’t be mine.”
I blinked, my head spinning. “So you took a test? Behind my back?”
Peter stood up, his hands shaking. “It wasn’t because I didn’t trust you! I never doubted you,” he said quickly. “But my family wouldn’t let it go. They were convinced something wasn’t right. They kept pushing me. I didn’t know how to make it stop.”

A shocked man looking up | Source: Pexels
“And what did the test say, Peter?” I asked, my voice rising. “What did it say?”
He swallowed hard, his eyes filled with regret. “It said… it said I wasn’t the father.”
The room felt like it was closing in on me. “What?” I whispered, struggling to breathe. “I never cheated on you! How could that—”

An upset woman in her kitchen | Source: Midjourney
Peter stepped closer, desperate to explain. “It didn’t make sense to me, either. I know the baby is mine in every way that matters. But the test… it came back negative. My family didn’t believe me when I told them it was positive. I had to confess.”
I pulled away from him, my whole body shaking. “And you’ve believed it, too? For years? And you didn’t tell me? It has to be wrong!” I cried, feeling like the ground had disappeared beneath my feet. “We have to get another test! We have to—”

A heartbroken woman at her table | Source: Midjourney
Peter’s face crumpled as he reached for my hands, but I pulled them back. “How come you don’t see it?” he said, looking deep into my eyes. “The timing… We started dating so soon after you broke up with your ex. You must’ve fallen pregnant without even realizing it. The test didn’t change how I felt about you or our son. I didn’t care if he was mine. I wanted to be with you, so I accepted him readily.”

A sad man on the kitchen floor | Source: Pexels
I shook my head, tears streaming down my face. “You should’ve trusted me,” I said, my voice trembling. “I never even suspected that he wasn’t yours. Why would I? We’ve been raising him together. You’ve been his father. We could’ve handled this together, Peter, but instead, you lied to me. You kept this secret while I was living in the dark.”
“I know,” Peter whispered, his eyes filled with regret. “I was scared. But I wanted a family with you more than anything. My parents wouldn’t let it go, but I didn’t want you to think I doubted you. I never doubted you.”

A regretful man | Source: Midjourney
I took a step back, feeling like I couldn’t breathe. “I need some air.”
Peter reached out, but I turned away, walking out of the kitchen and into the cool night. The air hit my face, but it did nothing to calm the storm inside me. How could he have done this? I thought about our son, how Peter had held him when he was born, how he’d loved him. None of that made sense with what he just told me. I felt betrayed, lost.

A crying woman | Source: Pexels
For a few minutes, I stood there, staring at the stars, trying to piece it all together. As much as I wanted to scream, to cry, I also knew Peter wasn’t a bad person. He was scared. His family had pushed him into this, and he’d made a terrible mistake by hiding it from me. But he’d still stayed by my side, by our son’s side, all these years. He had lied, but not out of cruelty.

A woman on her porch | Source: Midjourney
I wiped the tears from my eyes and took a deep breath. I had to go back inside. We couldn’t leave things like this. Not with our family on the line.
When I walked back into the kitchen, Peter was sitting at the table, his face buried in his hands again. He looked up when he heard me, his eyes red and swollen.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

A sad man sitting at the table | Source: Pexels
I took a deep breath and nodded. It would take time for me to fully heal from this, but I knew we couldn’t throw away everything we’d built. We had a family, and despite all of this, I still loved him.
“We’ll figure it out,” I whispered. “Together.”
If you liked this story, consider reading this one: When my husband said our daughter wasn’t “European” enough, I knew I had to act. I devised a plan to teach him a lesson, but as I watched his world crumble, I wondered if I’d gone too far.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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