Her husband was a stocky man, pot bellied, and almost bald. He sat in a chair and watched everything that went on at their restaurant. Once in a while he would grunt loudly, or yell something, I wasn’t sure if he was trying to communicate with the cook in the kitchen or with some some other unseen identity. For the most part, his wife ignored these outbursts. When he talked, most of the time it was to no one in particular, he sounded like he had a mouth full of cotton. I knew my Spanish was lacking, but I had serious doubts that he was even speaking Spanish!