Told what her son has said, Lucinda can't believe it. "But it's good that he [said it]," she says, "because he needs to." The anger has bubbled for so long in all of them, tamped down by two decades of silence, that when they finally speak about Jimmy, you can almost hear steam whistling. "I despise the man," Lucinda says, "not because the marriage didn't work out but because of what he did to his boys." (SI was unable to reach Jimmy for comment.)
There was a time when Lucinda hoped to erase Jimmy Shockey once and for all, wipe away the last trace of him by changing their last name. She even told Jeremy and James of her plans. But it would've cost $500, and Lucinda was scraping by on a receptionist's pay. For so symbolic an act, she refused to borrow. "It might as well have been a million dollars," she says. "But you know...the name suits Jeremy."
True enough. Shockey is the perfect name for what Jeremy is and does. It's also something that maybe, just maybe, will bring his father pain. The last few years, he half expected Jimmy to show up sometime, somewhere. But the man didn't come. So this is what's left: Each time Jeremy runs someone down, each time he makes news or hits the gossip columns, he may as well be balling up a fist and cocking his arm. It's not the sweet punch he and his brother have waited so long to throw, but it's revenge all the same. Somewhere, maybe, Jimmy Shockey hears that name. Somewhere, he knows it belongs to someone rich and famous and family, and he knows he has no more claim on it than a dead man.
"Go for it, Jeremy," James says. "Do whatever you have to do. Get your name bigger than anybody's. And let him sit there and think about that."