Locklear's petition for a divorce "was a very, very painful decision," a friend says of the couple (with daughter Ava in San Diego in '05). "But it was one they both agreed to."
02/20/2006 at 02:45 PM EST
In the batting cage at Baseball City in Agoura Hills, Calif., on Feb. 5, Heather Locklear was looking fine: her jeans tight, her white tank top showing off her L.A. tan, and – in defiance of house rules – her trademark blonde mane flowing unencumbered by a helmet. And she was hitting hard: swing, crack, swoosh . . . swing, crack, swoosh. There in the cage, with her daughter Ava, 8 – who had been first up to bat – at her side, she was the picture of suburban bliss.
"They were having a lot of fun," says a witness of the girls' afternoon out. "She was laughing and cheering on Ava and having a great time." But after about 15 minutes, Ava said she was tired. So her mother put down her bat, climbed into her town car with Ava and called it a day. "Heather really did look good," says the witness. "All things considered."