Lucie Arnaz is proud of her ‘15,695 days’ marriage and ‘5 kids’ – she survived famous parents’ horrible divorce

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.

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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.

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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

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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.’

No One Stopped to Pick Up This Old Man near the Highway & after an Hour I Understood Why – Story of the Day

When Rebecca and her daughter, Layla, set off on a trip, they didn’t anticipate the journey would challenge their views on kindness. An unexpected encounter with a stranded man forced Rebecca to confront her fears, leading to a life-changing lesson taught by her brave young daughter.

My name is Rebecca, and I was the kind of person who usually stayed on the sidelines when witnessing injustice or when someone needed help.

I was always afraid to stand out and hoped that someone else would help or stand up against the injustice.

Anyone but me. But that day, I acted differently, and it changed my life forever.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

It was a sunny Friday morning. Layla and I were heading to my mom’s house for the weekend. Layla, my eight-year-old daughter, sat in the front seat beside me.

She looked out the window, her face pressed against the glass, clearly upset about the long drive.

The road stretched ahead, and I could see her reflection in the rearview mirror. Her eyebrows were furrowed, and she let out a heavy sigh every few minutes.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” I asked, glancing over at her.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“I’m bored, Mom,” she replied, not taking her eyes off the passing scenery. “This drive is taking forever.”

I understood her frustration. We had been on the road for over two hours, and we still had a long way to go. Layla loved visiting her grandma, but the journey always seemed endless to her. I needed to cheer her up.

“How about we listen to some music?” I suggested with a smile.

She shrugged, still not looking at me. I knew just the thing that would lift her spirits. I reached for my phone and connected it to the car’s Bluetooth. A few taps later, her favorite song filled the car. It was a catchy, upbeat tune she couldn’t resist.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

I started singing along, my voice a bit off-key, but I didn’t care. I glanced at Layla and saw a small smile starting to form on her lips. She looked at me, her eyes brightening just a bit.

“Come on, Layla, sing with me,” I encouraged her.

She hesitated for a moment but then started to sing along softly. Her voice was sweet and clear, and soon, she was singing louder, matching my enthusiasm.

We sang together, our voices blending as we drove down the highway. The mood in the car lifted, and for a little while, the drive didn’t seem so long.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

Since my husband left the family, Layla had often seemed sad. She missed him, and I could see it in her eyes every day. I tried my best to cheer her up, to make her feel loved and safe.

It wasn’t easy, but I was determined. At that time, it seemed to me that as long as I took care of Layla, my fears and anxieties would disappear, distracting me from all my problems.

I glanced at Layla again, seeing her smile as she sang. It warmed my heart. She was such a brave little girl, handling things much better than I expected.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

I knew she missed her dad, but she rarely talked about it. Instead, she bottled up her feelings, and it broke my heart to see her like that.

“Layla, I’m so proud of you,” I said softly during a break in the song. She looked at me, surprised. “You’re handling everything so well. I know it’s tough, but you’re doing great.”

“Thanks, Mom,” she replied, her voice quiet but sincere.

We continued singing, the miles flying by as we enjoyed the music and each other’s company. At that moment, I realized that maybe, just maybe, things were going to be okay.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

Layla’s happiness became my anchor, and I knew I had to stay strong for her. And in doing so, I found strength in myself that I never knew I had.

My mom lived in another state, so the drive to her took hours. The road seemed endless, and fatigue started to weigh on me.

Not only was it hard for Layla, but it was also tough for me to spend hours behind the wheel. The trees and fields blurred together as we drove on, the hum of the engine a constant background noise.

“Mom, I’m really tired of sitting,” Layla said, her voice tinged with a whine.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“I know, sweetheart. It’s a long drive,” I replied, trying to keep my voice cheerful. “We’ll take a break soon, I promise.”

As we continued, I noticed the fuel gauge inching closer to empty. I decided to change our route slightly to stop at a gas station.

The car needed refueling, and I desperately needed a cup of coffee. My eyelids felt heavy, and my hands gripped the steering wheel tightly to stay focused.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“Stop, stop!” she yelled, her voice filled with urgency.

Startled, I carefully pulled over to the side, stopped, and asked Layla why she was screaming. “What’s wrong, Layla? What happened?”

Layla pointed in the direction we came from. “There!”

I looked out the side window and saw a man in very dirty clothes. He was holding a sign that said “help” and was slowly limping towards my car.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

My heart raced as I examined him more closely. His clothes were torn and filthy, and he looked exhausted. Fear gripped me, and I instinctively started the engine again.

“Mom! What are you doing? He needs help!” Layla cried.

“Someone else will help him…” I replied, my voice shaky.

“There’s no one else! We have to help!” Layla insisted.

I tried to ignore my daughter because I didn’t trust this man. He looked dirty, and there was a reason no one was picking him up; something was off about him.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“Sit quietly, dear,” I said firmly, my hands trembling as I gripped the steering wheel.

I continued driving, despite Layla’s protests, my mind racing with fear and doubt.

I pulled into the gas station to refuel the car. The bright lights of the station cut through the evening darkness. While the car was refueling, I decided to buy myself a coffee. I turned to Layla, who was staring out the window, her arms crossed.

“Layla, do you want to come with me?” I asked, hoping she’d agree and we could make up. “We can get something to drink.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

She shook her head, still upset from the incident on the road. “No, I’ll stay here,” she said flatly, not even glancing my way.

No big deal, I thought, she’ll get over it. I’ll buy her a chocolate bar, and she’ll forget her grievances.

Trying to push away the unease that was creeping in, I stepped out of the car. The cool air felt refreshing on my face as I made my way into the gas station convenience store.

Inside, the store was brightly lit and smelled faintly of coffee and cleaning products. I walked over to the coffee machine, filled a cup, and added a bit of sugar. I could still feel that nagging feeling in the back of my mind, but I tried to brush it off.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

At the counter, the cashier smiled at me. “Long drive?” he asked, ringing up my coffee.

“Yeah,” I replied, forcing a smile. “Just need a little pick-me-up.”

I paid for the coffee and a chocolate bar for Layla. “Thanks,” I said, trying to sound cheerful. The cashier nodded, handing me my change.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

Finishing my coffee, I headed back to the car, the chocolate bar in my hand. But as I approached, I felt my heart drop. The car was empty. Layla was not inside.

Panic surged through me. I ran to the car, opening the door and checking the back seats. “Layla?” I called out, my voice trembling. “Layla, where are you?”

I looked around frantically, spotting a man in the next car over. “Excuse me, did you see a little girl?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. “She was in my car a minute ago.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

He shook his head, looking concerned. “No, I didn’t see anyone. Sorry.”

I rushed to the gas station worker who was outside checking the pumps. “Have you seen my daughter? She’s eight, with dark hair,” I asked, my voice rising with desperation.

The worker shook his head. “No, ma’am, I haven’t seen her. Maybe she went inside?”

I felt a cold dread wash over me. She must have gone to that man. My heart was pounding out of my chest; I was terrified. “Silly girl, anything could happen to her,” I muttered to myself, fear gripping me tighter with each passing second.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

I jumped back into the car and started it up, my hands shaking. I drove back down the road, my eyes scanning the sides for any sign of Layla. “Please, let her be okay,” I whispered, my voice breaking.

Nervously, I drove, my eyes darting back and forth, scanning the road. My hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, and my heart pounded in my chest.

The trees and fields blurred past as I searched desperately for Layla. The minutes felt like hours.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I saw her. Layla was walking along the roadside, her small figure looking so fragile and alone. Relief washed over me as I pulled over beside her, the tires crunching on the gravel.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“Get in the car immediately!” I shouted, my voice sharper than I intended. I had never raised my voice at her before, and I could see the fear in her eyes. Immediately, I regretted it.

Layla’s eyes widened, and she stopped in her tracks. “Mom…” she started, but her voice trailed off as she saw my panic-stricken face.

“Please, just get in the car,” I said more gently, trying to soften my tone.

She nodded, scared, and obediently climbed into the car. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself as I watched her buckle her seatbelt.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“I’m sorry I yelled,” I said softly, turning to face her. “I was just so scared.”

“It’s okay, Mom,” Layla replied, her voice small. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

We sat in silence for a moment, the tension still hanging in the air. Finally, I broke the silence.

“Why did you leave the car, Layla? You know it’s not safe.”

She looked down at her hands, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. “I wanted to help that man, Mom. He needed help, and no one else was stopping.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

I sighed, torn between fear and admiration for my brave little girl. “Layla, people are bad. You can’t just trust strangers like that. It’s dangerous.”

Layla looked up at me, her eyes filled with determination. “But, Mom, we can’t suspect everyone of being bad. Just because Dad is a bad person doesn’t mean everyone else is.”

Her words surprised me. She was just a child, but she understood so much. “Mom, goodness always returns,” she added softly.

I stared at her, my heart swelling with pride and love. She was right. Maybe I had been too quick to judge. “I’m sorry, Layla. You’re right. We should help when we can. Let’s go back and see if we can find that man.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

Layla’s face lit up with a smile. “Really, Mom?”

“Really,” I said, smiling back.

We turned the car around and drove back down the road. Very soon, we found him. He was in the same place, standing with the help sign. As we approached, he saw us and waved weakly before collapsing.

“Mom, he’s hurt!” Layla cried, unbuckling her seatbelt.

We rushed out of the car and ran over to him. He looked exhausted and dehydrated. I gave him some water, and Layla held his hand, offering him comfort.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “My name is Michael. I just need a ride to the nearby town.”

I nodded, helping him to his feet. “We can do that. Let’s get you to the car.”

We helped him into the backseat, and Layla sat next to him, her curiosity shining through her concern. As we drove, she bombarded him with questions, her natural curiosity taking over.

“What happened to you?” she asked gently.

Michael sighed, looking out the window. “A day ago, a taxi driver robbed me and left me in the middle of the highway without my phone or wallet. I’ve been walking ever since, hoping someone would stop and help.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

We drove Michael to the address he gave, and it turned out to be a large office building. The tall, glass structure gleamed under the sun. As soon as we pulled up, a guard immediately ran out to him, looking relieved.

“Mr. Michael! We’ve been looking for you everywhere. We were very worried,” the guard exclaimed, his face showing genuine concern.

It was obvious that Michael held a high position in this company. He nodded to the guard and turned to us with a grateful smile. “Thank you so much for bringing me here,” he said. “You really saved me.”

Michael approached me and said, “Can I have your phone number? I want to repay your kindness somehow.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

I hesitated for a moment, then admitted, “Honestly, I was afraid to help you at first. It was all thanks to my daughter, Layla, that we stopped.”

Michael looked at Layla and smiled warmly. “Thank you, Layla. You have a very kind heart.” He then turned back to me. “But you did change your mind, and that’s what matters. It’s never too late to help someone.”

He promised that we would meet again and said goodbye. As we drove away, I reflected on the experience.

I will never forget this trip; even small children can sometimes teach us important lessons. Layla had shown me the power of kindness and the importance of helping others, no matter how difficult it might seem.

Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

If you enjoyed this story, read this one: My mom gave up everything to raise me. After my dad bailed, she was always there for me, the only one. All I wanted was to do something nice for her. So, I figured it wasn’t too late for her to find love on a dating app. But Lord, what I definitely DIDN’T EXPECT was finding her with my boss! Read the full story here.

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