Saturn Rising

This story is by Stephanie Doty and was part of our 2025 Fall Writing Contest. You can find all the writing contest stories here.

“I’m not Greek,” Nick said firmly as he walked across the living room.

Carolyn’s stomach tightened. She had hoped this day would never come.

“I grew up with my dad, or a man who I thought was my dad, telling me how he moved heaven and earth to bring me into this world. And now I find out after forty years, that Christos Vlahos is not my real father. I thought a DNA ancestry test would be fun and something I could share with him for his birthday, but I never expected this.”

Looking intensely into her son’s bright green eyes for what felt like an eternity, Carolyn turned over in her mind what to say. “Nick, I, um . . .”

Nick sat down on the couch next to his mother. Placing his hands over hers, he spoke softly. “Mom . . . help me to understand. I only want the truth. Who is my real father?”

Carolyn squeezed her son’s hands tightly as she accepted that she was about to reveal a truth that she was hoping to never divulge. “Alright, just sit here for a moment.”

She slowly stood, pausing to balance herself before walking over to the large dark-walnut bookcase, filled with books and photos of family memories. Kneeling down, a picture caught her eye of ten-year-old Nick on his first drum set and Christos standing next to him, both with wide grins. Seeing the image caused her eyes to well up as she realized how devastating this admission could be for her family. Opening the lower cabinet, she pulled out a bin full of old records and rifled through before finding the black album covered with planets. Placing the album under her left arm, she gripped her hand on the shelf, feeling the coldness of the solid wood as she used it for support to stand.

Somberly, she sat back down next to her son. Her eyes scanned the album cover as she flipped it over and then back again, then stopped and stared at the vivid gold letters displaying the title Saturn Rising.

“I haven’t held this in my hands for a very long time.” She sighed, hands shaking as she pointed to a young man holding a guitar. “This is John Grobe. He died right after making this album. He’s your real father.”

She slid the album into Nick’s hands so he could see him more clearly. He examined the face of the musician, studying the cut of his jaw, long blond hair and bright green eyes.

Clearing her throat, Carolyn continued. “In order for you to understand, I have to go back to the beginning. As you know, when your father and I were first married, all we talked about was having a nice big Greek family. Since I wasn’t Greek, I did my best to learn about the culture, so I could fit into his family. Well, one of the first things I learned is that whenever something was wrong, it was my fault and not Christos’s.”

“Your Nana would have us over every Sunday for a big Vlahos family dinner and she . . . they all made me feel worthless for not getting pregnant, like I was doing something wrong. They had an expectation that you get married and have lots of little Greek kids to pass on the traditions of the family. I would get ridiculed by his family and Christos would stay silent, probably because it was easier for him. But it hurt me and made me mad at him for not defending me. We started arguing all the time and eventually, we just avoided each other. Christos immersed himself in work and started traveling more and I escaped into John.”

She leaned in closer to Nick. “John and I were introduced through my friend Debbie and we instantly connected. It was as if we were both what each other needed in that moment. I would watch his band play at The Electric Tavern, then we’d stay up all night talking and laughing. It was so freeing, there was no pressure or family, it was just us. There’s so much of you that reminds me of him. It’s more than just your bright green eyes and warm smile. It’s the way you think and problem solve, and how you see patterns everywhere.”

“I always thought that I was more like your family than the Vlahos’s. Now I know why,” Nick said pensively.

“You do have some qualities that are like my Uncle Rob, but you are more like John than you’ll ever know.”

“You said he died. How long were you together before that happened?”

“For about six months. I had just made the decision to leave Christos, but then John was hit by a semi-truck while on his motorcycle on Rocky Mountain Road.” Her voice began to waver and tears swelled in her eyes. “Debbie was working her shift at the ER that night and called to tell me right away. I…I never made it to say goodbye.” As the words exited her mouth, heavy droplets fell off her face and into her lap.

Nick grabbed a tissue from the table and handed it to his mother. Placing his hand on her back, he rubbed it up and down in a slow soothing motion.

Carolyn blotted her eyes and cheeks with the tissue before continuing. “After that, I just gave up, sleeping all day, barely eating. I lost so much weight that Christos got worried and he took me in to see the doctor.” She turned to face her son and placed a hand on his cheek as a small smile spread across her face. “…and that’s when I found out about you. Our little miracle.”

A smile swept over her face as she continued. “Christos was so elated that he called your Nana before we even left the hospital. After that, everything changed between us. He was different, his family stopped tormenting me. Christos and I started to connect again and rebuild what we had in the beginning. It was as if you became our purpose, you brought us back to life.”

“Did you know from the beginning?” Nick asked.

“As soon as I heard I was pregnant, I knew. When I held you in my arms and I saw those beautiful green eyes…I knew. When you were growing up, all I could see was different versions of John’s face and it would make me sad sometimes. But I would look at the life that Christos gave you and how much you were loved. He adored you and it made it all worth it.”

The door to the garage opened with a familiar grinding sound that echoed through the house. Nick and Carolyn sat silently while they heard the carefree melody that Christos loved to hum as he walked into the living room.

“There you are. I was texting you to see if you wanted me to pick up dinner,” Christos said cheerfully.

Nick stood up, looking blankly at his dad while he watched him hang his jacket. Carolyn grabbed several more tissues to quickly try and freshen up her face.

“Sorry love. Nick stopped by and we were deep in conversation.”

“Hi Dad.” Nick said flatly. Carolyn could hear hesitation in his voice as he spoke, holding her breath to see what Nick might say next.

“I stopped over . . . because the present I was planning on getting you for your seventieth birthday is a bust. Mom was helping me figure something else out.”

“Oh, well, I’m sure whatever you plan will be wonderful. I’m just happy you’ll be there with me.” Christos patted him on the arm. “And since you’re here, are you hungry? I can grill us up some lamb for dinner.”

“Sure, Dad. That sounds delicious.” Nick said with a smile and followed him into the kitchen.

Carolyn exhaled deeply. After a brief moment, she walked over to the bookcase, knelt down and slid the record back into the bin. She softly closed the cabinet door and rose, taking a final glance around the room at all the photos. Her body felt lighter as she headed towards the kitchen to be with her husband and son.