I Really Love Lucy

Some fan fiction.

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Lucy rolled over in bed and yawned. Another late night which she’d pay for today but it was worth it. Throwing off the covers and sitting up in bed, Lucy ran her hands through her gray-streaked red hair and thanked the heavens one more time for what she had. She hadn’t felt this appreciated and loved – she hadn’t felt this much like a woman – since she’d left Ricky and married Fred Mertz

The decision wasn’t easy. After Ethyl’s death Lucy struggled unsuccessfully to fill the gap. She stayed home day after day watching game shows and reading celebrity fan magazines and she lost interest in everything around her. She ate, she smoked and she began drinking. Her health suffered. Little Ricky, grown and now living in the McGillicuddy family home in Jamestown, called occasionally, and the calls helped, but they weren’t enough to help lift her out of her depression. Ricky spent most of his days, and nearly every night, at the Tropicana nightclub. Lucy wondered why, but she couldn’t seem to make herself care.

It wasn’t until November when Ricky’s manager called and said the Ricky Ricardo Orchestra was booked for a two-week-long engagement in Los Angeles that Lucy, not wanting to make the trip back out west, or ask Ricky if she could dance in the chorus line, realized she had lost her will to live.

Winter came early to Connecticut that year and two days after Ricky and the orchestra left town, the temperature fell into the low-20’s. Lucy turned on the furnace and heard a terrible noise and not knowing what else to do – and barely caring – she called Fred Mertz. Fred found a problem with the blower motor and was able to fix it without having to go into town to buy a new motor. When Fred was finished with the repair, he and Lucy sat down to coffee and danish and they talked about Ethyl and their lives together in New York. Lucy was unable to control her emotions and she burst into tears and as Fred leaned over and held her, she let it all out, telling him how unhappy she’d been for the last year. Fred continued to hold Lucy until she stopped crying and he didn’t resist when she raised her face to his and kissed him on the lips.

“I’m sorry, Fred, I don’t know what came over me.” Lucy said. “But in all honesty,” she continued as she stroked his soft, chubby cheeks. “That’s something I’ve wanted to do for a very, very long time.”

“Shhh, Lucy, there, there. Don’t apologize. I’ve dreamed of this moment since the four of us were in Paris together and you were arrested for spreading couterfeit money. You in jail in a foreign country, so helpless and vulnerable and…”

“Oh, Fred,” Lucy moaned, She melted into Fred’s strong arms and she offered no resistance as he guided her into the bedroom and onto the bed he knew was hers.

When Ricky returned from the Los Angeles tour just before Thanksgiving he couldn’t help but notice the change in Lucy’s demanor. He thought it was because she was happy to see him, and after a few days he told her as much, and it was then that Lucy, not without a bit of remorse, broke the news to him that she and Fred were in love and that she had decided to start divorce proceedings immediately so the two of them could marry as soon as possible.

“That’s your explanation for your change, Lucy?” Ricky asked.

“Don’t fight me on this, dear. Please.”

Ricky’s unpredictable temper broke free and he began to scream at Lucy in Spanish. Hearing the noise from the other room, Fred walked in and told the fiery bandleader to settle down or he’d call the police. “If,” he said. “I don’t make you settle down myself!”

“How can the two of you do this to me?” Ricky fumed. “Lucy, my wife, and Fred, my best friend for all these years.”

“I’m sorry, Rick,” Fred said. “But I love Lucy and she loves me.”

“Lucy, you feel the same way?” he asked.

“Yes, dear. We’re as happy as two can be.”

“She’s right, Rick,” Fred said as he reached out and put his arm around Lucy and pulled her close. “Sometimes we quarrel,” he said smiling at Lucy. “But how we love making up again. Isn’t that right, Poochykins?”

“Oh, Fred!”

“I… I can’t believe this is happening.” Ricky started speaking in Spanich again until he realized neither Lucy or Fred understood a word he was saying and he stopped. “Lucy… I…”

Fred shook his head. “I’m sorry, Rick, but she’s my missus and I’m her man and I love Lucy and she loves me.”

“Fred’s right, Ricky. I’m sorry you had to find out about it like this, but it’s over. I think it’s best if you pack a suitcase and take a hotel room in town tonight. You can come by for the rest of your things later.”

“But, Lucy…”

“Goodbye, Ricky.”