Lonely Stranger's Company

The dark sky lit up with a flash of lightning and the thunder that followed rolled across the skies. Just for a moment, the lights in the crowded café flickered, but then everything was normal again as the rain hit the windows almost silently save for the trickle of water that could be heard.
My shift singing on stage had already ended, and I would have left. But it had been obvious that the gray skies would pour rain and I'd decided to wait until it stopped. And one of my coworkers intrigued me.
I glanced over to the corner of the stage where Mackenzie sat playing a quiet melody on the piano. Blonde little Mackenzie, mother of three and only twenty two years old, had amazing talent both with her voice and on the piano, but she would hardly think twice about a compliment given to her. She would blush, sure, but she never seemed to…take pride in it. She was modest, but she took modest to an almost unhealthy level where her self esteem plummeted.
I sipped on a mocha latte, watching her from the only blind spot in the café. It was the one place you couldn't see on stage unless you did a one-eighty.
Mackenzie was singing softly as her fingers flowed over the keys, and I recognized the song as one of Katie Costello's; Stranger. It was a quiet song with a slow tempo, soft and melodic. Perfect for Mackenzie.
I closed my eyes for a little while and listened to the music, felt it washing waves of calm over my head. Then when the song ended and her music was solely instrumental again, I stood to approach her.
I sat on the edge of the leather piano bench, keeping a polite distance between Mackenzie and me. "You're not half bad, you know," I said. And that was true; I really did enjoy her voice.
She didn't glance up from her music. "Thank you. Wasn't your shift over about an hour ago though?"
I shrugged. "Yeah. Figured I'd wait the rain out. The sky was looking really bleak, and now…" I waved my hand at the window, satisfied when the thunder boomed across the skies, adding that dramatic effect to my simple explanation.
"Ah, I see. Well, sort of. You know what I mean."
I laughed under my breath. I did know what she meant; she was so immersed in playing piano that she didn't want to look up. Oh, she was good enough to play with her eyes closed. But part of me thought that maybe she liked to see her talent as well as hear it, to visibly watch herself accomplish something.
"Sorry, I don't mean to be a bother," I said. It was meant to be an apology for interrupting her playing. But I realized I was smiling, and soon after I realized why.
I liked talking to Mackenzie. She was of the quieter sort, but that was alright; I could be quiet too. I respected her for who she was, and the way she sang was with a beautiful sort of elegance to it.
I didn't know her very well, but I expected her to ignore my apology. After all, I'd been smiling as I apologized; probably didn't seem very sincere. But she didn't ignore me.
"You're not," she said quietly.
Something about the way she said it made me curious. I couldn't quite pick out why, but it did. And then I wondered if she was really as happy as she let on. Of course she isn't, you twit, the voice in the back of my head chided. You already knew that. You talked to her a few weeks ago, remember?
That was right. She'd had bad experiences that I could relate to, and her husband – a friend of my best friend – had asked me to talk to her. I'd agreed and done so, and it'd been obvious that she could have been happier with herself.
I took a long look at Mackenzie Wilson, wondering for the first time if what she really needed was a good friend.